


Only Time Will Tell

by TartanWriting



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Magic, Memory Alteration, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Throne Sex, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-03-03 21:39:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 90,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2888840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TartanWriting/pseuds/TartanWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Redcliffe instead of Dorian and the Inquisitor being thrown forward in time, it's just the Inquisitor... And instead of going forward in time, she goes back. A LONG way back.</p><p>Back to the time of the ancient elves, before Arlathan fell and the gods were locked away. Possibly before the elves even really knew of humans as anything more than primitive creatures on far-off shores. But in this strange, beautiful and cruel world of her ancestors she sees one familiar face, except his name is Fen'Harel.</p><p>A very long story, surrounding a time travelling Lavellan who falls in love with Fen'harel, how this impacts future thedas, only time will tell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Well... Shit.

**Author's Note:**

> PHONETICALLY - Aur' Ceirw is pronounced OUR-KAI-ROO.  
> Going by Ceirw in most of the story pronounce it KAI-ROO. It's welsh!

Lavellan hit the ground, rear first with a very painful thud. A breath of air hissed through her teeth as the collision sent a jolt of pain up her spine. After the initial shock, the pain dulled and the blonde opened her eyes. Merely inches from her own nose was the snarling nuzzle of a dog, nay a wolf. Her eyes quickly took in it's matted black fur, scattered many red eyes and size and in her leap back she let out a scream. More shock than hysteria. Flame was sent to her finger tips and as her back slammed against the wall behind her, she noticed it unnecessary. The beast was stuffed.

Ceirw had only a moment to scan the room and her surroundings. It was a trophy room, that was obvious. The beasts it held were not so obvious however. Blighted creatures. Dragons. A fully gold pelted hart. Other creatures she could not name. Things that she feared must lurk at the bottoms of the seas, long forgotten. She did not get to further scout her strange surroundings as the door at the opposite end of the room opened.

An elven man walked in with a woman at his side and Ceirw could tell there was another elf behind them though she could not see their face. The man who walked in was grinning widely. He was a handsome man clad in all furs. His skin was a near glowing bronze and his eyes as amber as her own, flecked with gold. Beside him stood a woman, taller than any elvhen woman Ceirw Lavellan had ever clapped eyes upon. She too was beautiful but unlike the man beside her, she was pale and freckled. Her eyes were a striking blood red and her hair was a waist-length perm of copper.

The man spoke so quickly that Ceirw barely caught an elven phrase. The word 'mine' stood out. The woman replied in just as fluent elven, but with no vallaslin marking their faces, Lavellan could not place them for Dalish. The last thing she remembered was Alexius, Dorian was right behind her when the green light flashed, swallowing the room. Then she woke up here. She only hoped Dorian, Solas and Varric were okay.

In her train of thought she had lost track of the conversation before her. Snapping back to reality to see both maroon and amber eyes drilling her. They had spoken to her. Asked her a question and she had been so dazed she hadn't heard a word. Ever the doe caught in an arrow line, Ceirw stood stalk still with her golden eyes wide, unyielding. The man rolled his eyes in response as if dealing with a petulant child. Almost amused as well as frustrated. Like dealing with a puppy that keeps chewing on the rug.

"Era seranna ma, Asha. Ena in?" He asked once more looking far more expectantly at her now.

 

"I don't know how I came to be here." Ceirw replied. Keeping the conversation going in a language she spoke brokenly seemed hardly wise and very counter productive.

The words had barely left Ceirw's mouth and both the man and woman before her looked far less amused and much more curious. The woman in particular quirked a smile, tilting her head to examine Ceirw with more scrutiny. It was true in a sense. She hadn't known how she came to be there.

Blood was rushing through her veins as the woman smirkingly spoke back to the man. Fluent elvhen unrelenting. They continued their conversation for a minute or two uninterrupted. Then the voice of the third party member broke through. It seemed familiar but it was surly hearing the elvish that brought on the familiarity. With every passing second they spoke more elvhen and the bubbling panic that something wasn't right swelled in Ceirw's chest. Well of course something wasn't right. She was in Redcliffe one moment and Hot Hahren's the next.

"Garas, ma'mi." _Come, my blade_. The man pointed at his feet expectantly, but the woman remained skeptical with a brow arched. She had every right to be. Ceirw had no intention of moving for anyone. Especially not a stranger who refuses to speak the common tongue and calls her 'his blade'.

A beat passed.

When Ceirw still did not move from her spot against the wall a bark of laughter came from the back of the trio. The red-haired woman joined in the laughter, but they were both cut off by the man who had spoke to Ceirw. He still pointed at his feet, but cocked his head to look behind him. She did not need to be fluent in elvhen to know that whoever laughed was being scolded. One word did stand out though. 'Fen'harel'. It was hard to miss a name like that. What that had to do with her, she had no idea. The dalish rebel in her was almost about to speak once more, but the man had finished his scolding. He turned to the woman and said a string of words ending them in 'Sylaise'.

Ceirw had no chance to protest. Her mouth had barely managed an inch open when warm golden light was pulsing through her. This woman, Sylaise apparently. Was doing a spell on her. The red-head made it look so easy. Standing with one arm so daintily raised as mana pulsed from one mage to the other.

After the final jolts of tingling energy settled inside of her, the man spoke once more in a deep and rich voice.

"Do you understand me now, child?" He asked, looking curious once more.

"I do." Ceirw breathed back.

"Good." He stated, turning to look at the woman smugly. At this point the woman had fallen back in to boredom. "Come here now, child. You have explaining to do. Where is your master and how did you get in to Sylaise's dwelling?"

"I'd rather not." Ceirw replied rather honestly. She was much happier with her back to the wall and away from strange elves who called her 'my blade' and 'child'. For whatever reason her words were amusing. As far as the third unseen person was concerned she was comedy gold. He barked out another laugh that once more set off Sylaise.

"Do you know of whom you speak?" The golden eye'd man asked once more. Clearly the laughter from his friends was spurring on his anger and impatience.

"No."

It was he who laughed this time.

"I am June; God of Craft." He belted out, truly looking the part. Ceirw might have believed him if the words had not rang so ridiculous. "You wear my slave mark upon your face and yet your master has shown you not of my image?"

"Oh of course, you're June, the god of craft and I'm the queen of Arlathan." Ceirw snorted sarcastically. How hard had she hit her head? It wouldn't be the first time she was in the fade unaware.

"Why you insolent littl-" June was not allowed to finish.

"Temper, _temper_ , June. You threat much over such a little faun." The third member of the group pushed past both Sylaise and June. Stepping forward and getting a good look at Ceirw. In turn allowing her a good look of him. She needed a good look as it turned out. At first all she noticed was the hair. Dark auburn hair pulled back tightly, fastened at the front with a crown made from what she could only assume was a baby halla skull. Slowly her eyes fell down on to strong features and her heart swelled. He could wear whatever hair he liked. That was him and she knew it.

"Solas!" Ceirw chimmed rushing forward to grab the man. It was a relief to see a familiar face. "Gods, am I glad to see you, do you know whe--" She was cut off when she slammed against Solas' barrier. Eyebrows furrowing she looked up into Solas' eyes. They were the same yet...wicked. The stormy gaze held a gleam to it, enhanced only by the sly grin on his face.

It made no sense. Solas was. Well Solas. Haven's fade expert. Adorable, shy, clever Solas. Oh. It occurred to Ceirw that perhaps Solas was undercover. He had been the one who prevented 'June' from getting angry with her. Maybe she was in the fade? In some of form of demon's dream. Solas had come in the guise of this person to save her or wake her up? All she new for certain was this man was no look-alike. The eyes were exactly his. The voice as smooth as she remembered it.

"Solas?" Ceirw asked once more searching his glinting eyes for some sort of recognition. If there was any he hid it well.

"I daresay the poor thing is confused." Came the musical voice of Sylaise. "Should we accept that she is a sacrifice in your honour, June?" Ceirw should hope not.

"She arrived in your temple baring my markings whilst I was present. That can be the only case."

"I'm not a slave or a sacrifice, I'm the inquisitor of clan Lavellan. I wield a fierce power and demon's like yourself should fear me!" Lavellan called with all the bravery she could muster. In hindsight she must have looked pathetic and amusing. Energetically she raised her rift hand in the air. "Isn't that right, Solas?"

Both Sylaise and June fell into bubbles of laughter. At least she was amusing someone.

Ceirw's eyes travelled back to Solas for his sudden back up, but found only narrowed dark eyes observing her. Solas, like he had done that day in Haven, gripped Lavellan's wrist. This time tighter. He yanked the dalish elf several inches off the ground with ease as he examined the mana flowing from her scarred hand.

"Solas! Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Be quiet, mortal!" Solas growled in a snarl that took Ceirw by surprise. So much so that she fell into silence as he asked. No, commanded.

Ceirw watched as Solas began physically pulling the energy from her mark, in a way she had never seen before. The swirls of green achingly tore through her skin and she let out a scream in agony. She struggled to put up a barrier but had no strength to maintain it. If anyone else heard her screams they did nothing to help her. She was convinced she was dying. Whatever power was ripping itself from her skin was tearing the very spirit from inside of her. Eventually the pain got too much. Still in Solas' grasps, Ceirw Lavellan blacked out.

The words 'She is not your property to break' rang in her ears before darkness finally enveloped her.


	2. Fascinating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thanks so much for the lovely feedback so soon. I hope I do this justice! I can't help but tell that I'm going to be going a little 'Beauty and The Beast' with this story.

Pain throbbed to Ceirw's head as she came to conciousness. The cool smell of wet moss hit her nose before anything else. Light steady beats echoed around her, every now and then breaking with a drum of thunder. Her amber eyes painfully peered open, confirming it was in fact raining. She lay on her side in darkness, facing the mouth of a cave. Beyond the caves opening stretched forest for as far as her eyes could see.

Ceirw raked her mind for some remembrance of what happened. She recalled Redcliffe. Dorian and Alexius were arguing. Felix was trying to solve matters but to no end. Hot-headedly Ceirw made a move and then a flash of green. Ah yes. That is when she awoke in a room of creatures and beasts. A statement that could stretch to include the people in it. She recollected how Solas had acted. An anger bubbled inside of her at the memory of the pain he caused. She didn't understand how or why he could do this.  
She had no time to think of the past. Where she was now was important. She sat up slowly. Her eye-sight had adjusted enough for her to make out dull light cave. Paintings decored the walls. Beautiful murals of figures and animals. The murals stretched up to the ceiling of the cave. A mass of black paint dotted with a thousand individual specks of white paint. If not for the leaks of rain dripping through the cracks it would be like gazing upon the night sky. Ceirw's eye finally fell upon her arms. Her lower body sat illuminated by her marked hand, washing her a glow of green. Each wrist was knotted together with a silver vine. A plant she had never seen before.

Despite the chains being different and the dungeon being more beautifully garnished, she had been here before. Not the cave, but the situation. It was just like Haven. Awakening in the dark, alone, bound. She considered herself a brave woman but in this moment she would be fool not be scared. For the faintest of moments she considered the idea that she had truly met June, Sylaise, and Fen'harel. She physically shook her head. It was preposterous. The gods that were locked away casually questioning her. The Dread Wolf who just so happens to resemble Solas fiercely? What a stupid idea. She cursed herself for considering it at all.

Ceirw slowly stood. She still ached with pain but her legs carried her weight. A glance over her shoulder revealed behind her the cave tunnelled back further. Faint flickers of white and green informing her the way was light with veil fire. Curiosity ate at her but sense beckoned her to the mouth of the cave. Something told her deep down she was better out there, than in here.

Each step to the caves entrance was a careful calculated one. Eye's searching from left to right in sign of any prevention. There was none. It all seemed a bit to easy. Ceirw soon discovered it was. As she made to push forward her toes hit against a clear barrier. She was locked in. "Fuck." The word fell from her mouth and in rebellion she slammed the invisible shield with her shoulder and side, half expecting to fall to the ground. But she didn't. However she came to be here, someone did not wish for her to leave. The very real realisation that her only other option was to venture deeper into the cave was growing on Ceirw.  
That's exactly what she did. She turned defeated on her heel and followed the trail of veil-fire torches down the caves deep winding path. On the way she had tried to burn the vines tying her wrists but her confusion and dismay no magic seemed to work on them. Part of her wanted to call out as she walked down the cave but the other part of her knew that anyone who would answer would be no friend. Silently she travelled, praying to the gods that what waited for her was a kind welcome.

 

* * *

 

 

Twenty minutes she must have walked. The light of something other than veil-fire finally brightened the road up ahead and she knew she was close to something. With each footfall the cave widened and eventually she was standing before a marble arch. She was hesitant, but entered none the less.

"I see you have awoken, thief." A familiar voice echoed in the large round room. The room was almost a perfect circle. It made it hard to believe that this was natures work. No this was truly manufactured. Once more all the walls were painted. The dark stone was lavished a pure white with black wolves depicting what Ceirw could only assume was dancing. The ceiling remained black, but unlike the rest of the cave, the stars decorating this stone were diamonds peaking from cracks. In the centre of the room was the flickering of a fire and a tall throne with it's back facing Ceirw. Solas' voice came from the throne.

Ceirw felt anger and hesitation. She wanted to confront Solas, shout at him, accuse him of madness and so many other things. Yet for the first time since she met the man, she feared him. The pain he'd caused her was a cruel memory that still ached in her wrist. His malice having left a bruise where he grasped her. She was brave, she told herself. Solas was just a man and she had thought demons. She feared no man. Or so she told herself. With all the grace she could muster in her state, Ceirw walked forward and circled Solas' throne.

"And I'm no less confused than before, Solas." Ceirw informed the man, looking over him for some sort of semblance of remorse or recognition. She found neither. He sat brazenly on his throne. Feet kicked over one arm rest and his back propped on the other. With the warmth of the fire lighting him he looked like a roguish king. He was beautiful. Not the Solas she knew. This man was no introvert, he was a confident, cocksure rogue.

"Well that makes both of us." He quipped back with a smirk. Ceirw might consider him joking, if his eyes didn't look so dark. So full of fury and mischief.

"Solas. Throw me a fucking bone here, what's going on?" Ceirw snapped back, she was sick of these games.

"Solas? Pride? A curious nickname but I will allow it, for now." He mused, sitting up in his throne, leaning forward with elbows on his knees to observe Ceirw. "If you must know why you're here, I had the great fortune of purchasing you from June and bringing you to my sphere." It wasn't the explanation she was looking for and Solas must have seen that as he continued. "I replaced your vallaslin with that of my own. You belong to me now, little faun."

"I don't _belong_ to anyone." Ceirw snapped back, receiving a laugh from Solas.

"Oh you are spirited, aren't you?"

"I don't know who you are or why you've taken Solas' form, but I will kill you." Another quick laugh followed Ceirw's words. His amusement for her was wearing thin. Her anger was building.

"I am Fen'harel. God of tricks. I have told you this before, if you wish to believe it or not is up to you. After all you best not, it might only be a trick." He quipped with a smug grin, leaning back in his throne. Stormy eyes never leaving her form. "I am more interested in how you managed to steal my magic."

With a gesture of his own hand Ceirw's joined pair raised unwillingly. The green magic painfully crackling from the scar. "You're the one who started the breach?!" She asked, eyebrows lifting an inch. Elven gods. It was hard to believe but it could make sense. The breach tore into the very veil. The Dread Wolf was supposedly not locked away. He could have...He could be. Ceirw's eyes widen looking over the man before her. No, it was not possible.

"I don't know what breach you speak of, mortal." Solas replied dismissing her question with a wave of his hand, in turn allowing hers to fall.

"I do however believe your bafflement. " He continued. "I know not of what treachery has gone on, but I will find out. You have magic but not like any in Arlathan or the other realms. You are no goddess and yet you do not belong here. You are not one of the people." Ceirw wasn't sure if she should be pleased or offended.

"This _can't_ be happening." Ceirw finally breathed out, breaking into a pace. Back and forth walking. Dorian had mention Alexius attempting time magic, but that was surly...no. "I am Aur'ceirw Lavellan. I am twenty-nine years old. I am in Redcliffe and fighting the breach, it is the year is 9:40 Dragon, I was sent to the con---"

"The year _is_ 9:40 Dragon?" Ceirw directed at Solas with a raised brow.

"Fascinating." He grinned back wickedly.


	3. I Dare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for all the support and kind words. I can only hope this story lives up to the praise you're putting on it! Note: I may or may not have been listening to 'hungry like a wolf' during some of this. Oops.

It took a lot of self convincing to believe it. To even begin considering being back in ancient times was just...insanity. Solas or Fen'harel or whoever he was had told Ceirw that she was back beyond her time. That Arlathan still stood with all of Elvhenan and all the gods reigned mighty. She had not told him about the future. A future where this 'trickster' god was the god of rebellion and betrayal. She did and would not tell him what he did or what he would become. In facing the possibility that she had time travelled backward, Ceirw also took on the responsibility that she must not change or disturb things.

She could not begin to wonder a world in which the gods were free. This world must have been magical. This world was magical. Amidst all the fear she felt there was the longing and fascination. She would finally get to see what Arlathan looked like. She would dare to gaze upon the immortal elves of old. The excitement only mixed with caution. If what she had seen of her gods was anything to go by, the past was different from the stories she once heard. Fen'harel for one apparently lived in an onyx cave. The Dalish never wrote about that.

She also thought of the future this world possessed. One she could shape. Ceirw dared to dream that in this world Tevinter would never come to pass. Then she had realised, what if she prevented herself? What would that even to do to the world? Ceirw had to consider that it took a massive rip in the veil to get here. She wasn't meant to be here and as frightening and alluring as it all was, she might end up the folly of Thedas. It made her blood run cold.

Briefly she considered suicide. It was not the most pleasant of thoughts certainly, but it was a sure way of preventing anyone in past learning secrets from her. If dying meant there was no way she could mess up, then it was a fitting end that she die in the land of her people. Of course that meant years from now there would be no one around to stop the breach. What would become of Redcliffe if she didn't return? It wasn't an option. She had to return. She was never the self-righteous sort but she couldn't do nothing. The facts of the matter were simple. She could not stay here living and she could not die. Returning was her only option.

Solas sat on his throne before her listening to her tale. After he had told her where and when she was he begged the question of who she was and why she bore his magic. Having already let slip that she assumed him the causer of the breach, denying that there was one would be pointless. Carefully she had answered that in the future the veil had been torn and through means unknown to her this magic bestowed upon her. She made sure to stress that it was unwillingly done to her. When he pressed her for more details she told him all she could about Redcliffe and Alexius.

"That's all I know." Ceirw finally uttered to Solas.

"Well, that is a fascinating story, if true." He replied genuinely as after she had finished. In the now dying fire-light he stretched his lean body out like a cat. Brushing slender fingers over his youthful face in thought and perhaps lethargy. "You have still not answered one question, however."

"And what's that?"

"Pray tell, little faun. Why do you call me Solas?" His words took Ceirw by surprise. In hindsight they shouldn't have. She had placed that name upon him and he had every right to question it. The anxiety twisted in her stomach like a knife but it had to go on ignored. She had to be smart and fast-thinking now. Everything she spoke of the future would have some consequence, she was sure.

"This form in which I'm seeing you right now, is it your permanent form? Or like a spirit do I see you as I perceive you to be?" Was her quizzical retort. For the briefest of moments hope swelled inside of her. Clearly her question had taken Solas by surprise as he raised a singular brow, challenging her with a grin.

"An intelligent question. Unfortunately your imagination runs wild. I have many forms but my true form and only elvhen form is what you see before you." Judging by the wolfish grin on his smug face, Ceirw could only assume he was confident in the aesthetic of this form. She could hardly deny that he had every right to be.

It also confirmed her suspicions and the betrayal felt like a knife in the back. She choked back a dry laugh. Solas, Fen'harel the god of betrayal had betrayed her. Betrayed her to her very face for months and should she expect anything less from the Dread Wolf? This was what stories from her clan had warned her about for years. Wise words she mistook for 'metaphorical lessons'. Yet for months in Haven since meeting Solas that day before the fade rift, he had been lying to her. Oh the gods had a sense of humour. Fate had was twisted and the very thought of how Solas stood with her day after day lying to her made her feel bile in her throat. It all made sense. He knew exactly what to do with her mark and the rift. He knew how to keep her alive when she emerged from the fade. He knew to be near the conclave. He knew because he caused it. Ceirw's hands fisted with rage til they were white knuckled, a fact that did not pass Solas' watchful eye. Despite the anger she displayed he seemed only curious, perhaps endeared. This only fuel her fury more. How dare he. How dare he lie to her. Cause her this pain. He might not know it now and she might not no why, but he had ruined her life. He had all but destroyed the world. Countless people died.

Countless people died.

That was the final straw. Ceirw lifted her hands to eye level and released a powerful burst of frost in Solas' direction. Had she been in any right mind she had have thought twice. Solas was her friend. Her crush. Someone she respected, if only the future Solas was here she might of begged for an explanation. This was not the case however. The man sat before her was cruel tyrant not worthy of the title 'god'. A man who would one day ruin her life.

As the frost magic dulled she came to find the silver vines binding her wrists had fallen to the ground. She panted with exhaustion and anger. Watching as the icy mist evaporated and Solas sat still in his throne. His throne that was once pure onyx, now lay frosted and cracked beneath him. Solas was wise enough to put up a barrier but little diamonds of ice glittered on his skin and clothes. This was on the one hand a good thing, it meant he was not invincible. Ceirw often found nobody ever was. On the other hand she had done nothing but make him angry.

"You dare!?" He growled snapping up from his iced throne in a swift rage. In seconds he stood inches from Ceirw towering over her. His eyes glowed an intense fade-blue and she could hear the growl resonating from his chest. She had not had lyrium in days, she was tired and had used so much of her magic in foolish anger. She knew deep down that she could not fight him and for the first time since she'd met the man, Solas frightened her.

"I dare!" Ceirw replied in a would be defiant voice had it not cracked. "The whole time I've known you, you've been lying to my face! You want to know how I have your magic? You fucking put it there!"

Solas' eyes glowed brighter and he raised his hand. Ceirw shut her eyes. She did not need to see what pain he was about to inflict. She waited and yet no blow came. When she finally mustered the strength to re-open her eyes, Solas remained where he was albeit looking calmer.

"Killing you would be a dis-service to myself." He informed her, clearly her face displayed her surprise.

"What do you intend to do with me then?" Ceirw asked not flinching from Solas' gaze. If the man, or god, or whatever he was, planned to torture her she would face it bravely.

"I will find a way to put you back where you belong."

"Why? Why would you do that?" Ceirw replied suspiciously.

"You spoke of me in the future. If I have yet to kill you there, it is clearly because I need you."

Ceirw's suspicion fell into despair. The first time Solas told her he needed her and all it brought her were feelings of dread.

 

* * *

 

 

Confronting Solas would be something she could do in the future. Now she had to live with him. They had both agreed that Fen'harel knowing too much of his own future would be dangerous and so Ceirw eagerly accepted his request to never interfere in his actions. Provided it brought her no harm.

Solas had placed Ceirw in her own bedroom for her stay. Apparently time travel was not something a god had considered before and needed to study. It made sense after all. Why would the ancient elves and gods be interested in time travel. In the beyond and fade they could watch and re-live the past. In the future they would still be alive as they were immortal. Or so they believed at this time. The room he offered her was eerily beautiful. Everything was lavished silver, black and white. The caves black marble. The furniture cushioned onyx with white throws. All of this completed with the re-occurring 'stars' painted on the ceiling. It was certainly the most beautiful dungeon she had been privy of occupying, but it was a dungeon none the less.

After days of of being locked up Ceirw had had it. She stormed over to the sealed door that confined her to her quarters. She clenched her fist and let knuckles hit loudly against the wood. Knocking so hard she felt twinges of pain shoot up her arm.

"Solas! Solas!" She called his name. Then she called it again.The only name she felt comfortable with. Over and over until amongst her cries she heard footsteps approaching.

"Do you wish to tell me you are hungry, little faun?" He hummed, as if the very idea of her needing more than the two meals a day he provided for the past three days was a burden on him.

The door clicked open and Solas pulled it outward stepping inside. The god lured over her with a bored expression. Ceirw was almost sure he did it to irritate her. His blatant disdain for the people made her wonder how he ever managed to convince her he was her friend. The Solas of the future was in for a world of pain when she returned.

"I need air." Ceirw replied simply, raising a challenging brow to Solas.

"What do you think you're breathing?" Solas retorted with a devilish grin. Her cold expression must have answered his question because in his oh so smarmy voice he added, "Where would you like to go?"

Ceirw gaped. She hadn't expected it to be so easy. That he would so willing allow her to see her homeland in all it's glory. To see the cities in the trees and the elvhen people in their pride of life. Then it struck her. Of course he would not let it be so easy. Fen'harel the god of tricks. He would want something in return.

"What's the catch?" She watched as his wolfish grin only widened.

"Indulge me. Answer some of my questions." Ah. That could be dangerous. If she said the wrong thing she might prevent Solas from a past choice and where would that lead them? She would need to plan every word carefully.

"Done."

Solas escorted her back to his central circular room. Her room was accessible through one of the seven doors. She had worked out that one lead to her quarters and another lead to the mouth of the cave where she had awoken. Which made it all the most surprising when Solas ventured down a different path with her in toll.

"Are we not leaving through the front of the cave?"

"A cave mouth, Is that what you saw?" He retorted sounded every bit as interested as he did in the future when Ceirw spoke of herself.

"Is that not what was there?" Ceirw asked, eyebrows scrunching together. She had seen with her own eyes the caves entrance, barred with Solas' magic.

"I can see why you might think so." Solas replied as the reached the end of the corridor, stopping before a giant silver mirror. "It was a simple trick. Much like a dream, it reflects what the viewer wants to see. You obviously wished to see an exit, an escape."

"No, that can't be possible. I could smell the wet grass. I saw the rain." Ceirw protested.

Solas laughed deeply, and it twisted a hatred in her gut. She had gotten over her initial anger at the betrayal. She would need to remain calm for now, but that did not prevent her loathing him. Solas' laughter slowed as he stood, withdrawing a sphere from his robes and he begged the question, "Is magic so limited where you are from, mortal?"

"No. It just seemed...real." Her amber eyes searched the stone orb with curiosity. She almost felt drawn to it. Crisp sparks from her scarred hand told her it was the magic they shared that she sensed.

"Do not all dreams feel real when we dream them, little faun?" His words gave her goosebumps. Ceirw had to consider that he had a point. She had no time to formulate a response however, as Solas was already urging her through the eluvian.


	4. Talking To Myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kind words you people write! Gah it's just too much!! >_

Beyond the mirror was a world not unlike the fade. Ceirw thought it was like stepping into silver mist. Echoes of songs hung in the air like fog and at almost every turn was another mirror. Some of the mirrors were watched by guardians. Each in the most fascinating armor. So stoic that when both Solas and Ceirw passed they did not even blink. When she asked what they guarded Solas smirked and simply said 'Everything.' She didn't press the matter despite her hunger for the knowledge of this world.

The first stop they made was a marketplace in Arlathan. It was the most beautiful place she had ever seen and her only regret was that her clan could not be here to see it. Solas assured her the less attention she drew from other beings here, there better. That meant a new less shemlen tailored outfit. She could not help but agree, for as angry as she was the man, he was still smart. Blending in was key. Her lack of great elvhen magic would go un-sensed as she apparently shared Solas' via her mark. Once she got new attire her only 'give away' would be her short lifespan. A pain pulled at her heart at the thought. The knowledge that all the people she passed would soon fall prey to the shemlen of Tevinter.

Not everyone warranted her concern.

On more than one occasion on the trip to the market place Ceirw witness noble men and women with their slaves. People didn't wear vallaslin here. Only the slaves. That made all of Solas and June's words click. Vallaslin, like many other things was something the dalish got wrong. It made her feel sick to her stomach. To think of the joy she felt finally being marked as an adult as a free woman and elf. Oh the irony.

She paused in step with Solas as they strolled down the market place. Had she been paying more attention she might have caught the fleeting looks they got from passers by, but she did not. Her eyes were instead locked on to a mirror in one of the many stalls. Hesitiantly she pressed her finger tips to her cheekbone.

"What are you doing?" Solas asked eagerly watching her as his voice feigned boredom.

"My vallaslin it's--" Ceirw traced the pattern across her face. The golden ink arched over her brow and delicately twisted into a criss-cross 'snout', stopping in the centre of her own nose. Separate from that ongoing line where to rounded triangles at the corners of her lips, finally one more stroke brushed down the centre of her lip and down her throat. Her face so blatantly branded with a wolf was hard to take in. "--Ah...Different." She finally choked out.

"The slave markings inked into your blood were removed, despite you not belonging to a elvhen noble, I placed mine upon you." Solas explained. She watched as he traced the lines of her vallaslin with his navy eyes. Her face beneath them burned hot. In equal measures anger and fluster. "Whilst I care very little for the slaves offered to me, or their noble owners these marks make you my property."

"I am not your property." Ceirw hissed, turning from the mirror, and roughly shoving Solas' shoulder to make him aware of that very fact. If she had to melt, burn, and scar her face to prove it she would.  
If 'the people' took any notice of how she treated one of their gods, they did not show it.

"I traded June for the mortal with the strange energy, I assure you that you are." Solas chuckled back at her shove. Laughed at her in the way you did when a child with a wooden sword tried to 'fight' you. So patronising it made her blood boil. "I mark all my interesting things, it keeps them safe from the other gods." So she was but an interesting thing? In the future she thought he was his friend and here his prisoner.  
"Do you have any idea what a cruel, malicious, beast you are? Or does the truth get lost beneath the rest of your ego?" Ceirw replied forcibly calm.

"You dare question my actions?" She had clearly struck a nerve. She watched curiously as Solas' gaze darkened. He seemed to emit anger and pain. No pain wasn't right. "I am a god, you have no right."

"No." Muttered back to Solas, starting again to walk through the market. "I question your morals. As for being a god. Any true god would not need to profess himself one. The creators certainly have no issue in claiming their greatness. Though I have yet to see it."

Solas lapsed into silence. It was then it occurred to her that the expression on his face she mistook for pain was in fact shame. It was brief but there and that was something. Defiant of her words, Solas rolled his eyes and stepped on ahead. Leaving Lavellan with no where else to go but to follow him.

 

In the end, they fetched Ceirw caramel coloured dress robes. She was given the strange coin from Solas and told to go purchase them from the vendor. From what she could gather, she was going to being wearing them in guise as a priestess of Fen'harel's temple. That would explain why she was allowed access to his eluvian and why he might appear around her. Still, the idea that a god could wander the markets of Arlathan un-bothered didn't sit right with her. When she asked, Solas informed her he could remain unseen to the mortals if he so wished. Of course. In all the stories she had heard about the creators, many of them spoke of mortals praying and then gods 'appearing'. She found it quite funny until she realised she had just walked through the market place of Arlathan 'talking to herself' and shoving thin air.

"Where to next?" Ceirw asked stepping from behind a curtain. She had just changed into her elvhen priestess robes. She just knew Vivianne would pitch a fit at the sight of her. A thought that warmed her and twitched a smile on to her lips. Still, the robes were comfortable and incognito, what more could she ask for?

Her question seemed to draw from him an increasingly annoying laugh. "You're going back to your chamber and I will sleep at ease to prepare for the agonising parade that is Andruil's hunt."

Adruil's hunt? Ceirw light up like a beacon and had to physically prevent herself jumping in glee. She loved watching the hunters back home. It was a beautiful skill watching them gracefully stalk a doe, only to take it down with an arrow, thanking Andruil for the gift. "Can I come, Solas?"

The god looked genuinely surprised, an expression of disbelief fading slowly into interest, and curiosity. "You would truly wish to attend the hunt? I did not think it something mortal's fond of."

"Are you joking!" Ceirw beamed up at Solas, forgetting herself momentarily and treating the man like the Solas she knew. "I don't know how the shemlen feel, but personally the dalish love to hunt in honour of Andruil. It's a beautiful art--" Lost in the excitement, Ceirw pulled at the front of Solas' fur robes, drawing him in closer to her. Further to his surprise. In a moment between friends she grinned at the man inches from her, "--I would do anything to witness the great goddess Andruil hunt."

Solas furrowed his brows as he looked over Ceirw but his mouth mirrored her grin. "So peculiar."

"Is that a yes?" She asked doe eye'd, pleading.

Solas seemed to consider the repercussions of bringing her to such an event. Looking over her thoughtfully he seemed to weigh in her discomposure. It was obvious that she wanted to watch it badly. To be one of the few dalish to actually witness Andruil's arrow. It was too much to hope for. In all her anger and rage, she had lost sight of the fact that she was in ancient Elvhen at the temple of Fen'harel. All those answers the dalish sought, she could find the answer.

"If you behave yourself, you can co--" Solas' words died in his throat as Ceirw eclipsed him in a hug that he did not return. After a few seconds the woman caught herself and she pulled back. Right, not Solas from Haven, Solas: The Dread Wolf. She must remind herself to treat him as such.

"So, back to the temple then?" She said, accompanying her release of the god and a string of coughs.

"Quite." Solas stated with the faintest linger of amusement in his voice.

 

* * *

 

 

They arrived at one of the many guarded mirror's Ceirw had passed earlier. She wore her robes and was given a staff. It was onyx and on top of it, carved a wolf's head. She had to bite her tongue and not mention how very on the nose that was. In many ways the ancient elves were not far different from Orlais and on worse comparison, Tevinter. They held large 'royal' affairs, they were ridiculously over-dramatic, and nothing seemed to be beyond expense.

Solas opened the eluvian with his stone orb, he had informed her earlier that this was a foci and all the gods carried them. She stepped through the portal, something she wasn't sure she'd ever get used to. It always made her feel funny. Like the feeling she got if she sat crossed legged too long and then tried to stand.

At the other side as both god and priestess stepped out, they were greeted by several dozen halla mounts and their riders. For the life of her, Ceirw could not grasp why she was the only one who seemed excited here. She deduced it must be that she was the only one to not encounter these things before. That explained Solas' near frown. He was bored and had clearly seen it all before. She was sure the first time anyone stepped onto this lush grass and stared at the tree-line they felt the excitement she felt.

In shimmering golden armour in the distance a woman sat upon a halla. The gold was encrusted with clear gems and in intricate patterns. Upon her back was harnessed a longbow made of the same such gold. On anyone else it might have looked tacky but the enriching glow just made this woman look awe-inspiring. Ceirw's heart raced in her chest as she stared upon the woman's beauty. A golden helmet covered her hair but it's open face revealed large brown eyes and a pointed nose, slipping down into full un-painted lips.

Ceirw's staring was cut off as Solas stepped past her view. She followed him to see he was stepping over to a woman dressed in all deep-purple. The robes were simple but contrasted to the gold crown that sat upon her head. Oh and of course the massive dragon-like horns that curled out of her hair. Ceirw was baffled as the woman was clearly elven and no qunari. In hindsight it shouldn't have surprised her. They were gods. She lived with one that could apparently transform into a wolf.

"Mythal, Abelas." Solas greeted the two with a warm grin. It was strange to see that this man actually had friends. It was not until Solas' greeting that she noticed the man who stood beside Mythal. He, like herself was wearing priestly robes, his own in a dark forest green. Upon his face he wore the symbols of Mythal. It was not difficult to assume he held the same position she did.

"Dread Wolf, I see you found yourself a priestess." Mythal commented looking over Ceirw in an intense gaze. "And here I thought you hated the people."

"It is a matter of circumstance." Solas replied with a casual shrug of the shoulders. He was so comfortable here. Ceirw had never seen him so cocky and at ease.

"Circumstance? Is that what we're calling it these days?" Mythal teased and to Ceirw's shock Solas laughed. He either played his part well or he generally enjoyed the banter. "Tell me child, would you consider this a matter of circumstance?" She asked locking golden eyes with Ceirws. She had never felt so much like prey in her life.

"It is surly by chance." Ceirw replied feeling the pressure of Mythal's gaze.

Mythal broke into a wide grin. Stepping forward Mythal brought her lips to Ceirw's ear. She could see that Solas was watching them both intently. Did he expect things to turn violent? Would Mythal know that she was weak not truly one of the people? Her heart pumped faster at all these unanswered qustions as Mythal, goddess of mercy and love stood by her side. Warming her ear with hot breath as she whispered words only meant for Ceirw to hear.

"But is it chance or fate, Aur'Ceirw?"

Ceirw's heart sped faster. Logically she knew that having met both Sylaise and June either could have told Mythal her name. Yet the way the goddess whispered the riddle to her. Deep down she almost believed that she knew more than she was letting on.

"Come Abelas, we should be mounted before Andruil gets impatient." Mythal had already stepped away before Ceirw could even begin to compose a reply. "Good-hunting." Mythal added in fair-well as both she and her silent priest stepped away.

"You should get mounted also." Solas instructed pointing behind her to the man halla. She turned to look, the nerves of Mythal's words being replaced by excitement. The halla she noted were being tended to by slaves. Slaves bound by the wrist in the same vines Solas held her in. She would stomach it for now. Slavery was commonplace in elvhen and if she protested she would give herself away.

"Aren't you going to mount too?" Ceirw asked.

"Solas?"

Receiving silence as her reply, Ceirw turned to find a large white wolf bounding off after Mythal and Abelas.

Of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always felt Mythal/Flemeth knows more than she ever says. Plus I couldn't not reference her 'Is it fate or chance? I can never decide line.'
> 
> As for the hunt, I'm sure you can imagine how that's going to go ;P


	5. My Place Is Right Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kind comments make me smile so much I can't even begin to tell you. Words honestly fail.   
> Writing this story has also become something of an addiction. I have rough drafts of the next 4 chapters already! Expect 2 chapter updates a day at this rate. Notes for this chapter Siôr is pronounced Shore, also it occurred to me thanks to a lovely comment I received, I hadn't broke down Aur'Ceirw which is pronounced OUR-KAI-ROO. 
> 
> As always thanks for reading and thank you for your beautiful comments and especially your questions! <3

Ceirw traipsed across the uneven ground. She imagined this is what it felt like as to be a mouse in the presence of a dragon. A pang of embarrassment and guilt hit her when she realised the looks she gave Andruil and Mythal from afar must resemble the looks she received in Haven. If the people who saw her close rifts could see this, their jaws might hit the floor. She felt cursed and blessed all at once to be privy to this world and it's mysteries. 

Kicking leaves and wiping her bare feet against the grass, Ceirw approached a young lad who appeared to be in his early twenties or late teens. He was probably three hundred. He was marked with the markings of Andruil in silver vallaslin, the patterns seemed to dance in contrast against his bronze skin. The man took in her appearance in turn and then turned his eyes to the ground shamefully. With bound wrists he gestured to the halla at his side for her to mount. 

"Worried I'll bite?" Ceirw teased gently, smiling at the man as she idly reached out to touch his halla. Well, Andruil's halla. 

"N-no." He stuttered back daring himself to glance up at her. It pained her to see this man, this elf look at her in such fear. The dalish were a proud people, she was taught her whole life to never give in to slavery and here she was branded a slave talking to another. Another who had no doubt seen horrors far greater than she could imagine, judging by his reaction.

"My names Ceirw, what's yours?" She asked in an even gentler tone and sharing a smile to her kin. 

"Siôr." The man all but whispered back to her, finally meeting her gaze fully. "No one has ever asked me that. I didn't expect it to come from a devout of Fe--Oh sorry my lady, I did not mean to overstep." His latter words came out in a fearful panic and quickly he bowed to her. It made Ceirw feel sick. Slowly she pulled her hand from the halla and rested it on Siôr's shoulder. 

"Please don't fear me, Siôr. I mean you no harm. I promise." 

Siôr looked up at her incredulous. It was as if she just slapped him. She couldn't understand what was wrong with her statement but apparently it upset the man as he bowed and made to leave. She watched after him for a moment with her own confusion but did not press the matter. She was to mount this halla and take direction. Perhaps after the hunt she could ask Solas to trade for Siôr like he traded for her. Then she could at least see the man in a more friendly environment. The thought brought a smile to her lips and she climbed the halla, all excitement for the hunt restored.

In the next few moments the gods, priests and guests on their halla all lined up at the tree line. Down the far end of the line she could see Solas in wolf form. Standing almost as tall as the halla that carried Mythal beside him. A surreal sight, but all things considered, she accepted it. Andruil was only three halla down from herself and it gave her butterflies. _The_ Andruil. Ceirw watched as Andruil blew a horn signalling the beginning of the hunt. To her surprise as none of the mounted hunters made to move and she had to stop herself at last minute, pulling back and hoping no one saw. She looked around confused, only to find that the only movement belonged to the slaves. Twelve or so all bound at the wrist by silver vines began sprinting through the tree line. 

Her first assumption was that the slaves were to stir the animals up. Make the hunt more interesting and sportful, which it would be if the animals were jumpy and running. She watched as only seconds after the first blow, Andruil blew the horn again. This time everyone moved and Ceirw was the one left behind. Oh great, she thought. Now she looked like an idiot. She gave her halla a tap and went after the other riders. She had barely broke through the tree-line when she heard the first scream. It was then she put two and two together. They weren't hunting animals. They were hunting elves. 

Ceirw's breath caught in her throat. In no tale of the elven gods did they spin the story of Andruil the slaughter-ess of elves. It made sense. Why would she harm her own creations when elves, slaves were at her beck and call. Solas had knew this, that's why he found bafflement in her excitement for the hunt. The pieces all clicked and all she could feel was shame and rage bubbling inside of her. Siôr. She had looked the man right in the eye and now he was running for his life. She promised she wouldn't hurt him. Her shame cut through her like a knife. Tears stung at her eyes. Had she landed in June's library and Solas not seen her mark, she could be one of these elves. This could be her. This could be Sera. This could be her clan, her mother, her father. Worst of all, it was Siôr and she had promised him no harm. 

With a growl of rage, Ceirw motioned for her halla to move quicker. She needed to find him. Needed to save him. Another scream cried out and she cried out back, urging her halla to move quicker. As her momentum built she raced passed others who were once ahead of her. Another scream. She was losing hope. Then in the distance she spotted two figures. One tripping and falling and the other not daring to help. As she rode closer she saw the floored elf was a woman. "Run!" Ceirw cried out as she passed the woman. It was selfish and senseless not to save her in pursuit of Siôr, but the truth was she promised him no harm and he had a name. It was harsh but that's the way it had to be. 

To her luck the second figure was Siôr. She raced up beside him and when he turned to look at her, his eyes were filled with dread. His pace slowed and she almost cursed him for giving up. "Siôr I'm here to help you, I promise!" Ceirw pleaded with the man as he stopped, doubled over and out of breath. She reined in her halla and pulled up beside him. "I'm going to get you out of here." She added desperately scrambling off her mount. 

Siôr looked up at her with confusion and hope and she reached out to him. She was going to make this right. If she could protect this one elf the guilt she felt for her excitement might ease. If she would change one thing about the past it would be that this man lived. This man would be safe. The sound of a twig snapping tore Ceirw from her thoughts and she turned to it's source, shielding Siôr who cowered behind her. 

To her surprise and relief a white wolf slowly stalked towards them, it's growls shifting into words as he transformed before her eyes. "What are you doing?" Solas snarled striding over to Ceirw. She could not be sure of even him. Her arms spread out and she put up a barrier over Siôr and herself. 

"I'm sparing this man's life." Solas' eyebrows near shot off his face at her reply, "I'm sorry, I mistook the hunt for something else but Solas, these are elves. These are living people, you can't just kill them like animals for sport!" 

"You cannot just simply spare him." Solas shot back in anger. "He's a slave, He's Andruil's slave. It's not your place!" 

"He has a name, it's Siôr! My place is here between you and him." Ceirw shot back repulsed. To think that Solas was actually defending this sport, taking part in it. All sense of any kind feelings she felt toward the man drained from her body. 

"You disgust me. You take joy in the slaughter of people. The people who look up to and pray to you!" She was crying. She could feel the warm water spill down her face and taste the lump in her throat. Everything she new about the gods was a lie. They were hateful and she was thankful for their disappearance from the world. 

"You think I enjoy this?!" Solas growled back in unison with a cry in the near distance. "I am here because I was forced to attend. Do you see blood on my face? You are the one who begged to come to this hunt. No one asked or made you." 

So what, he was here out of politics? He was only for show. It was those words that made hope replace the disgust. 

"Then show this man some kind. Spare him, trade for him-- Solas I am begging you." Ceirw eagerly begged, the barrier dispelling around her. Solas' face softened and he looked like he might even be considering her words.

"What's going on here, then?" A shrill voice rang out and Ceirw turned her head to see Andruil with bow and arrow pointed at her. 

"We're sparing this man." Ceirw retorted moving to now shield Siôr from Andruil's arrow-line. In response she only cackled, like this was some joke. A trick even.

"How playful of you to give him false hope, Fen'harel." Andruil replied with glee, not moving her arrow from Ceirw. 

"Andruil, forgive my priestess--" He chuckled back with a charming grin that would make the most chaste of chantry sister's swoon. 

"No, do not." Ceirw foolishly snapped.

"--She is but infatuated with this man. You understand how infatuation goes, yes?" He continued on, ignoring her outburst. His tone was pure silk and he was all but purring as he slowly and confidently stepped toward her. 

"Your priestess has poor taste, Fen'harel. Then again what better match for a flea than a flea?" She stared at Solas with hooded lashes, clearly seduced but her words dripped with amusement and disdain. Both she and Solas laughed and Ceirw saw red. 

Everything happened so fast. Andruil's words bit at her very core. Solas' ease in the tense scenario made her want to scream. The lack of caring for a man's life and the viewing of him as property had her boiling. To the point lightening shot at from her finger tips at Andruil. Solas cried out for her to stop but it was too late. The lightning did little to Andruil's enchanted armour, but it was offence enough for her to loosen an arrow. 

Blinding pain shot through Ceirw as the golden point sunk just below her collar bone. She was surly going to die. No one could feel pain like this and live. It was no normal arrow, it was ungodly and infused with magic that made her bones feel like shattering metal beneath her skin. Her mouth opened to cry out as she fell to the forest floor but she could not. 

Her ears drummed with the thudding of her heart beat, the echoing bang of her head hitting the ground and the shouting the faint sound of words. She looked up to find her vision in impaired through tears or something else she could not know. The world around her flickered and she saw Siôr's form make a run for it. She hoped he'd make it. She prayed that he got out of this mess alive. In the time she had fallen Solas' outline stood in front of her. 

"Andruil, I beg of you to remember, she belongs to me. A priestess no less." 

"Elgar'nan will forgive my vengeance, she attacked me first."

Her chest felt warm and sticky with blood and without her own mindfulness she began to move on the forest floor. She was convulsing and her vision was going dark, she could not keep her eyes open. She could only taste copper on her tongue and vomit in her throat as she choked and seized. 

"We can come to an arrangement, I need her." 

"As if you could need a mortal."

"I will owe you one favour. Anything you wish." 

The last thing Ceirw heard was a hiss of pain. 

 

Ceirw let out a groan. Her eyelids were heavy and she could not bear the weight of opening them. Her ears alerted a sound but it was muffled and she could not yet make it out. Feather touches brushed down her neck and danced over her throat. The same trail was brushed again but this time with something warm and wet, it was a comforting caress. It spread over her collar bone and then back again. In her wakefulness Ceirw could feel the cool air on her bare skin. 

Bare.

The elf's eyes forced open and she found herself inches away from Solas. His face was fixed in concentration as he focused on her chest. Her eyes flickered over the scene. She was lay on a bed, a quick glance told her it was in the chamber Solas gave her. He sat on the bedside looming over her. In his hand she noticed a cloth which only added to her confusion. 

"What...what are you doing?" She moaned weakly trying to sit up. This got Solas' attention and he turned his head away from her chest to look at her face. Navy eyes meeting her own bleary yellow ones.

"Cleaning your wounds, they finally stopped bleeding three days ago, but I waited to be sure." Solas answered, showing her the bloodied cloth, she looked down to see that on her chest was an ugly raw rippled scar where the arrow had hit her. The events of the hunt slowly came back to her. 

"The hunt was three days ago? I've been out three days?" She asked hoarsely, her throat was thick with flem and dryer than the western approach. Solas reached to the beside and brought her a cup of water to drink from. A necessity for them to converse, lest he wish to speak to a croaking elf. When she was done he removed the cup slowly, letting a drop of water fall on Ceirw's chin. 

"The hunt was four days ago." Solas corrected. "You are weaker than most mortals. Your life line is not as strong or as long, it took me a day to get you to stop bleeding." Ceirw huffed at his words. She could hardly believe that being 'immortal' made that pain feel any better. "I almost feared you would not wake up--" Ceirw briefly smiled, but as Solas continued the smile fell. "--All that potential magic in your mark would be wasted, your 'bravery' would have been for nought and what would I do in the future?" 

"Thanks." Ceirw snorted, a snort that quickly turned into a spluttering cough. 

"You should thank me, little faun." Solas scolded her seriously, going back to brushing the dry blood from her chest. Reminding her she was clad in only a binding and small clothes. To Solas credit she was under the covers and her quilt pulled up over her already covered breasts. The man was a god after all. He probably held little care for her body. He must have removed the arrow and then her robes. Her biggest concern was that those robes were new bought. What a waste. 

"Thank you." Ceirw said genuinely, smiling up at Solas as he fixed on his work. Now that she was awake she could feel how fully the soothing affects of the elfroot were on her tender flesh. 

"What happened after I...you know." She asked curiously watching Solas dip the cloth into a bowl of red-stained water, ring it out and then bring it back to her chest to clean once more. He had healed her to protect his investment. Cleaning her however, he could not argue that was kindness. In any other situation Ceirw would call it a kind courtesy, but he was a god, cleaning and dressing her wounds. He must have felt bad for what happened. She thought he ought to. 

"Oh we had tea and cuddled." Solas replied stone-faced. 

"Wha--Really?" 

"Of course not." He snorted and rolled his eyes. She would give him that, she was foolish for believing that for a second. She defended her stupidity with the light-headedness of her recent war wound. That was the only thing for it. "I had to barter for your life. It cost me a scar not un-like your own." Ceirw watched as Solas pointed to the tiniest of scars above his eyebrow. She'd seen that scar before on future Solas. Had she really not noticed that he didn't have it here? It was tiny after all. Still, it was daunting. It was the first sign that what she did in the past affected the future. 

"Oh I'm sure you all but died." Ceirw quipped back with a grin, she chuckled a little but it hurt her chest too much to keep it up.

"I was lucky it was only the tip of her arrow that pierced the skin, I'll let you know Andruil's arrow's scar forever." The cleaning was done and Solas finally pulled the cloth away, letting it drop in the basin with a faint splash. Her eyes fell to her own scar. Forever was much shorter for her at least. "If she had the gall to actually strike me she might have ruined my good looks." He flashed Ceirw on of his wolfish grins and she had to laugh. Creators, he was cocky. She was so thankful that he lost that trait. It would be like living with two Dorian. 

"Because appearance is always the first thing I think of when someone puts an arrow through my face." Ceirw agreed sarcastically nodding. Rousing a laugh from Solas in return. Her own laugh fell dead in her throat. Here she was making jokes but she had realised her and Solas were not the only two people in threat of an arrow that day. 

"Solas. The man in the woods, did he...Did she?" Solas' laugh twisted into a groan and he stood up from Ceirw's bed. She didn't take that as a good sign. 

"No. You should have left it to me." He said simply, as if placing the blame on her was deserved. She had to question if it was. She had spoke out of term. She had attacked Andruil, but they were being so intolerably cruel. Maybe, just maybe if she had kept quiet things would be different. She was strong, she was brave but above all she was a fool. 

"I'm sorry." She uttered, partly apologising to Solas and partly to Siôr.

"I find you increasingly peculiar, mortal." Solas commented matter of factly, watching Ceirw with a furrowed brow. "You fight so hard to defend others and somehow fail to defend yourself." 

The words struck her like a hard blow. They rang truth and she knew it. 

"Now sleep. I have a lead on time magic and going into the beyond is easier when I know you're unconscious and not messing things up." With that Solas sauntered out the door, shutting, locking and sealing it behind him. 

What could she possibly mess up in a sealed room?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone interested I doodled up my Ceirw minus vallaslin -
> 
> https://fbcdn-sphotos-h-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xpa1/v/t1.0-9/10888460_418686288299520_6750927174035351629_n.jpg?oh=276480a5d0c0d39793944e69310df1be&oe=55322515&__gda__=1430465197_0a25d39ddcbf5cdc6d8063a32c4b4699


	6. I Think This Line's Mostly Filler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I'm overwhelmed with the feedback on this story. My biggest fear now is that it won't live up to it's expectations and it's all down hill from her. This next chapter feels a lot like filler, despite that not being the intention in writing it. Hopefully the next one makes up for it. :)

Ceirw reached above her, branch by branch she climbed the tree. It's rough bark a familiar comfort under her hands. She tossed the few strands of her short hair back in the breeze and inhaled the air, salty and crisp from the north sea. She could almost feel the dampness of the sea-spray on her face. Another moment passed and she had reached her destination, a large chunky branch snaking from the truck. Thick enough to sit on, so that's what she did. She perched herself like a gargoyle, a figure of stone taking solace in the silence.

This was the fade of course. She worked it out when realised she didn't remember being anywhere near trees. That's when she thought back to being in Solas' chamber. She must have fallen asleep. Here her injuries gave her no stiffness. Here she was fit and free and frolicking. If only Varric could see her. Oh how she missed him. She knew the dwarf only a few months and he had been a great comfort to her. His humour was crude and witty. His self-confidence was refreshing but not egotistical and most of all beneath it all, he was a caring and kind man. He had been through a lot and still all that mattered to him was helping.

"You help people too." A voice beside her said. Ceirw all but fell off the branch as the words cut through the silence. She turned to find perched beside her a crow. A talking crow. Seeing as this was the fade, all bets were off. Of course she was wary. That crow could easily be a demon.

"I'm Compassion." It replied to her thought-train. She couldn't deny watching a beak move as those words came out was odd. As if knowing her discomfort the spirit took shape in a clear ghostly form. One many dreamers were accustomed to.

"Thank you. I don't see why you're bothering me, though." She commented turning from the spirit to look out over the landscape before her, a view that so beautifully broke off into coast. A thin blue line on the horizon separating the sea from the sky.

"You're feeling lonely. You hurt. Physically burning, scarring, aching. Emotionally wanting, reaching...mourning the slave that died." The spirit spoke back and Ceirw turned back to the creature with softened features. "...You are hurting and I want to help."

"Forgive me being cautious, but I do not take the aid of creatures in the fade. Besides, there is no way you could help me."

"You're there, but you're also here. You're in both places." Compassion spoke on.

"Tell me something I don't know." She scoffed back.

"You're not alone." Compassion answered.

"Well obviously there's people here and there." Ceirw chuckled rolling her eyes. It was true though, this spirit showed her kindness in reminding her things could be worse.

"No. You're not alone. People here are there. So many people are there. People that should not be there. I should not be there. Why am I there?" The spirits voice was beginning to bubble up in panic, everything was escalating more quickly than she anticipated.

"Why am I there? Spirits do not belong. Pain, I see so much pain and a boy Co--"

"Be-gone spirit. You can do no healing here." A voice broke through her dream like thunder and the whole illusion of her dream cracked. In seconds she was standing on the un-easy purple ground that the fade defaulted to. The spirit that had a stood by her side was gone and she was left questioning it's words.

"Solas?" Ceirw called out to the familiar voice that had chased the spirit of compassion away. She did not often see spirits do as commanded but clearly even they fear the mighty Fen'harel. The Dread Wolf. Master of the Beyond.

"The more I watch you--" Solas started, appearing beside her with such ease. As he circled her like a vulture it's prey, the scene around her 'faded' into different settings. First Solas' onyx cave, then a forest, then the top of a spire in Arlathan looking down on the bustle of crowds. "--the more curious I find myself. Indulge me, re-set the scene."

She wasn't sure what to make of that. She'd admit that showing up on a god's doorstep from the future with his magic and a knowledge of his future alter-ego warranted curiosity. Adding that to the abundance that in the future she is named 'Herald of Andrastate', walked out of a fade rift with no memories and now apparently spirits she'd never met in her life were with her. Yes, she was turning out to be quite the special little snowflake. Honestly, she'd much rather the conclave went smoothly and she was back with her clan. Since this whole thing happened she was learning to hate her gods and dealing with the fact her friend was one of said gods.

Solas was waiting on her setting the scene. She 'shut' her eyes despite knowing it was pointless, but the darkness let her concentrate. She focused on Haven. It was a place she'd stayed long enough that the details stuck fresh in her mind and the details that didn't would be in her subconscious. She hoped. Haven, what memory of Haven could she show him. She thought of her getting to know her Inner circle. More specifically she remembered Solas. Solas and his hut. Solas where he had stood outside, back pressed against the house wall. She remembered walking over to him. Speaking. She remembered him saying 'Your indomitable focus is an enjoyable side benefit.' He had stood in the snow, leaning against the stone wall as his tunic billowed in the mountain breeze. She had chuckled. Yes, then she crossed her arms and said 'Indomitable focus?' She certainly remembered him saying the sight of the domination would be fascinating. It was a playful and flirtatious banter she knew they as friends would never have again. They dynamic had changed and even when she returned to the future, she knew it would be different.

The cool winter chill biting at her arms informed her, the memory took hold. Ceirw snapped her eyes open in the 'here and now'. Everything was just as she remembered it. Everything. The house stood with it's torch of fire being the only nearby source of heat, she looked down to find her bare feet standing in snow. Her eyes looked to the feet in front of her. Taking in the sight of Solas' body as she looked up. The moss green leggings, the cream woollen tunic, the jawbone necklace and then finally the bald head. It was like nothing had changed.

"I will admit, you still do not fail to surprise me." Solas' voice came from the side of her. He stood beside her in all his Fen'harel glory. Black and gold robes, dark flowing hair and skull crown. Ceirw watched as his face contorted in both fascination and confusion. Solas walked over to his fade self, eyeing the man curiously. "Nor do I fail to surprise myself it seems."

This was strange. Even for the fade this whole scenario was beyond bizarre. There had to be a rule about seeing what your future self looked like through the eyes of someone else, in the fade...in the past. No that was all just. Insane.

"Maybe you shouldn't be seeing that." Ceirw suggested, inclining her head to Solas and his futuristic doppelgänger.

"You are correct." Solas replied stepping through where his fade self stood, making the vision vanish. He tilted his head and stepped closer to Ceirw, watching her curiously as though she were doing something stranger than just standing there.

"What?" Ceirw asked, tilting her head at the god and feeling suddenly very self concious. It was her own dream and yet here he was stalking it and changing it. Ceirw remembered the story her keeper had told her about Fen'harel and a keeper's dog. Fen'harel had poisoned the keeper's mind in their sleep. Trying to twist the dreams into hatred for the people, all because that keeper was kind, something Fen'harel hated above all other things. She briefly questioned if he could twist her dreams. Make her question herself. Change her. Stop her from being kind and save himself a lot of aggravation.

"I am simply astounded that even in sleep you cannot be simple." Solas replied. Ceirw wasn't entirely sure that was a compliment. She would take it as such, even if she could use some simplicity right about now.

"Now. Wake up."

 

* * *

 

 

The next few days past with Ceirw in recovery. At first she remained bound to her chamber, but her stubbornness prevailed in getting her an unlocked door, should she need to walk around. Whilst more healing magic would have helped her regain strength sooner, Solas used much of his magic to sleep and search the fade or develop time magic. On more than one occasion had she left her room and travelled down the hallway to the marble arch that lead into Solas' rotunda, only to find him sleeping gracefully upon his still ice-cracked throne, foci in his palm.

This lead to her meddlesome-ness getting the better of her. There was many other paths that broke off from the central chamber. She had seen the 'cave opening', her room and the mirror entrance, but what of the others? She was curious to see the murals and what the fresco depicted. She was eager to see what artefacts The Dread Wolf might value preciously.

She had just been stretching her legs when she found Solas asleep on his throne. He either did not have a bedroom or just refused to go to it lately. Unthinkingly she stepped around the silent room. The only noise belong to her foot falls or the crackling of the fire. Four rooms un-opened, four rooms that could contain anything. She stopped at one of said doors, nervously checking over her shoulder at Solas' sleeping form. There was a twisted thrill at the danger of being caught. Tensely, she tried the door and to her delight, it was unlocked.

Ceirw pressed the door open gently, stepping into the blackness of the room. With one final glance over shoulder, she shut the door behind her, enveloping her darkness. For light she summoned fire to her hand, it was a weak light but served it's purpose in illuminating the room.

The walls lit up as she stepped to them and Ceirw let out a gasp. The usual beautiful décor that marked all the other rooms was missing here. The walls where white with dark claw marks of a beast tearing into the stone. Her eyes followed the trail marks down the wall where near the bottom they would turn into hand-prints of an elf, smearing in red. As she stepped along the skirting of the room, she followed the wall. Watching as the claw marks carved side ways and downward and the red splattered and smeared angrily against the white. On more than one occasion she had to side step a chest, statue, or pile of books.

The room was more narrow than she had first thought, from where she stood now many meters away, her torch light did not even reach the door. Eventually she did bang into something. She hissed quietly at the pain shooting up her hip. Looking for the object that caused offence, she discovered it was a stone stable pressed against the back of the wall. At least she now knew she had reached the back of the room. Furthermore she noticed mounted candle on the table. Sparing her energy, she lit those and doused the magic from her hand.

The table light up privately, feeding enough light into the room for only the desk to glow. The rest of the room left hidden in shadow. In the peak of her curiosity, Ceirw eye'd a book laying open on the table. She had convinced herself that she'd came this far, what more harm would looking in the pages do?

The elf sat in the chair placed near the desk and gently tucked herself in. Shaking fingers traced the parchment pages. The book was clearly quite old and very large. It was encased in some sort of leather that she daren't think about and the cover lay untitled. It did not take long after scanning the pages to come to the conclusion that this was Solas' memoirs. A biography of his life, writing down important notes. Knowing she could not stay long, Ceirw flicked through the pages, reading those that stood out.

 

> _"Mythal, she is benevolent and asks only for love and kindness. She treats the people with a respect they do not deserve. The people fall prey to the dark ones. Daern'thal tempts them and they concede. The mortals are filled with pride and hatred, lust and envy. Still Mythal seeks to guide them into greatness. Treating them with forgiveness, that is but her way."_

So it was true. Some of the gods truly did care for the people. Things were not as bad as they seemed. The future warned her that all gods were locked away by Fen'harel. She wondered what Mythal could do to make his opinion change of her. She wondered why Solas locked them away at all. She could only assume his hatred for the peoples weakness made him forsake them.

 

> _"I spoke with Anaris today in the abyss. It was maddening. The void is too dark a place to remain, it is heavy with rage and darkness. I believed myself strong enough, and so far am the only god to go and return peacefully. June and Sylaise say that I should hate Anaris, for his corruption, but I find him no worse than Andruil or Elgar'nan. At least the dark ones are clear in their intentions. They do not hide behind their smiles."_

Ceirw read on, sinking deeper into fascination, all the more as she read. She had meant to read a page or two but the more she learned, the more interested she became. So little was known to her people about the forgotten ones. It reminded her, that for how dark the gods seemed to be, they were merciful in comparison to the dark ones. Where the gods had brought her people gifts of knowledge and power, the dark ones forced only hate and sickness.

 

"Find what you were looking for?" A cold voice asked from behind her and Ceirw could feel the warmth of breath on her neck. She had been either so lost in reading or in thought that she did not hear the door open behind her.

"I'm sorry." Ceirw replied letting the pages fall from her fingers as she let go of the book in front of her.

"Get. Out." Solas uttered in a harsh whisper. His words were sharp and he was clearly angry. She had invaded his privacy and now she was sure he'd never let her go anywhere unattended again.


	7. No Stranger Would It Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You people are angels! This chapter hopefully answers some questions is also the build up to the next chapter which I have been looking forward to a lot. Thank you in advance for all the kind kudos, comments, and questions. <3

Solas' voice cut through her like a cold sharp knife. It was hiss, barely a whisper and yet it made her shudder more than she would if he had just shouted. She rose from the chair in silence with the intention of leaving as he commanded. Her nerves got the better of her and despite knowing it unwise she chanced a look at him. His face glowed in the presence of the candles. Each flicker of light cast upon his face showing the tense muscles there. His chiselled jaw clenched, his mouth was a fine line and his eyes narrowed watching her. His eyes never had looked so stormy and full of rage. She turned from him in seconds not being able to keep the gaze. His face was so etched with anger at her betrayal that she could not look at the pain she'd caused.

She didn't know why he wasn't screaming why he wasn't throwing things or beating her, and she wasn't going to linger to find out. Quietly she left the room, not once looking back. It was not until she had re-entered the main chamber did she hear the crash of furniture. Followed by the sounds of objects smashing and clattering to the ground.

Never in her life did she run so quickly as she did then to her chamber. Hell hath no fury like the god betrayal, deceived.

Ceirw lost track of how long it took for the noise to stop, but eventually it did and she was left sitting on 'her' bed, staring at the door. Be it a blessing or a curse, Solas never did come to see her. She waited an hour or so, but all she could hear was silence. It occurred to her that he might have gone out, but she didn't dare go and check.  
At some point in her solitude, Ceirw had fallen asleep. She had been sitting on the bed thinking of home. At first she only thought of her clan. Her keeper and the soup she used to make, her friends Ioan and Fione and the trouble they would get into. The thoughts then trailed to Varric and Bull. She missed their stories and their jokes. She missed Cassandra and her rare little smiles. She missed Solas when she did not fear him. She missed Dorian's wonderful charm. She missed Haven. That was her last thought before sleep took her.

Ceirw's nap was dreamless and she awoke to the sound of wood hitting stone. She peered open her eyes and sat up on the bed. Over her shoulder she saw Solas. He had just been turning to leave when she sat up. His face was weary but as he acknowledge her it turned passive. Ceirw saw that the source of the sound that awoke her was a wooden bowl left on her bedside. She expected to be frustrated or frightened with him, but the sight of him still bringing his 'prisoner' food despite everything made her features soften.

"Thank you." She murmured with a small smile. One he did not return.

"I did not mean to wake you." Solas replied coolly and she wasn't sure if he was displeased or if that was an apology. He turned from her then and strode across the onyx chamber to leave.

"Solas." Ceirw called out after the god. The time magic could still takes weeks to work out and she could not stay here as a silent prisoner. It would be maddening and make interacting with future Solas too awkward to consider. "Solas, I'd like to speak about what happened earlier."

Her words managed to stop him. He froze on his journey to the door. That was something at least.

"You are a mortal elf and I am an elvhen god. In what world do you demand an explanation from me?" Solas replied coldly turning to look at Ceirw questioningly.

"Oh, let me think." Ceirw muttered back sarcastically clambering off the bed. It was foolish of her to be so brazen around him, but she was flawed and over opinionated. "In the world where I'm the only one with the power to stop the breach. The one where I am the leader and you're the advisor, the one where I am not a slave, but an outcast misjudged by the whole world and mocked for following gods that do not exist. The one where I am a fool for not believing in the Maker or Andrastate and the whole fucking time my friend was lying to my face. So fucking excuse me for being curious and snooping around but do not treat me like one of the mortals here. I have seen you years from now and I know you bleed just like everyone else."

Her words had gone off in a tangent that had surprised both Solas and herself. Feelings that she had repressed to herself being in this world without a friend. He looked taken a back by her rant.

"For such a little faun you are surprisingly brave. Does nothing frighten you?" Solas inquired. He had a point. She should be cowering before him. He had after all lost his temper many times before her, but he had also shown her kindness that reminded or the elf she knew.

"Are you kidding? I'm terrified. Everything is insane and confusing and if I fear you on top of everything else, then I'll be completely alone." Ceirw replied with a tired shrug and breaking voice as she watched Solas. His looks were so hard to decipher, she could never tell what he might be thinking when he looked at her quietly.

"Your soup will get cold." He replied in a slightly warmer tone. "I...accept your apology." He turned from her then and exited the room, notably not locking it with a barrier.

Well. That was a start.

 

* * *

 

 

With all the progress they had made so far, the incident of her invading his 'study' went unspoken. He accepted her apology and whilst not returning one of his own, the days past with him regarding with her more respect than she ever expected to gain. Days past with Solas giving her some books to read so that she might learn of her history. Of course the books not being in common, she had a great difficulty translating them.

On the rare occasion he was not mingling with gods, searching out time magic with spirits or playing tricks on mortals, he would come check on her. She didn't know if her words of needing a friend got to him, or if he was a more merciless a god than the Dalish stories told. Whatever the reason, she appreciated the company. In many ways it was similar to sitting with Solas in Haven, asking questions about the ancient ways and learning history.

On one occasion she asked a question about holidays and celebrations. She was embarrassed to find him laughing and reminding her it was in one of the books he gave her. It only added further insult to injury when she had to explain she couldn't read the text all that well and only a few words translated.That's when to her great surprise, he started to help. She should have known that even back then deep down all Solas wanted to do was share his wisdom.

Eventually his little visits turned into sessions of them sitting in the onyx chamber with Solas reading to her. When she asked why the elves spoke in common but wrote in elvish he reminded her of the day she first arrived there. She remembered it well. Falling into that trophy room with no clue of what was going on. Solas reminded her that Sylaise used magic on her.

Every word she spoke to Solas and the other gods or people was heard in elvish and all the words she heard in common were translated. Sylaise's magic was strong and broke boundaries Ceirw hadn't even questioned before. She obviously didn't grant the people the magic of translation because they were all elves and needed none. Ceirw was somewhat mad at herself for not questioning that before. Still. It did not explain why she could read what Solas wrote in his memoirs. She didn't mention that confusion. It would only bring up unneeded awkwardness at the reminder she had basically read his diary.

"So Sylaise gave me the power to speak in translation but not read it. Isn't that rather...pointless?" Ceirw asked, looking across from where she sat crossed legged on the bed, to Solas who lounged in a large chair pressed to the room wall, book in his lap.

"You were marked as a slave, perhaps she assumed you could not read." Solas uttered back not giving the matter too much thought. "Or because all she needed to do at the time was understand the weird words you were speaking." He shrugged uncaring as if such things were unimportant.

"If I was an elf speaking another language...shouldn't that have been more of a surprise?" Ceirw asked thinking back to how at ease the gods seemed to be.

"We were quite surprised. This world has many realms and many magics so whilst an elf not speaking elvhen was uncommon it was not impossible. There are many reasons one might speak in tongues." Solas explained, disregarding the book and sitting it on the arm-rest. "It made trading for you all the more expensive."

Ceirw pondered his words. Everything made sense, minus being able to read Solas writing. She could only possibly put that down to his mark on her hand. She contained his magic, did that have something to do with it? Ceirw pushed the thought from her mind. "What did you trade for me?" She asked hesitantly. She wasn't sure she wanted to know but Solas made it sound like she was valuable. She almost cursed herself for objectifying herself like that, but it was tempting to know what someone would pay for the strange talking creature that bore their magic.

Solas raised a brow in response to Ceirw's question. "Well if you must truly know, June wished that I slay a beast for him. It was plaguing a village that held Sylaise highly. He wished to gift the beast to Sylaise for her trophy room without doing any of the hard work." Solas said the latter with distaste. "He failed to mention that it was a beast that belonged to Anaris."

Ceirw found it amusing that Solas would show distaste in June for wanting to take credit for Solas' handy work. This coming from the man who demanded respect from the people whilst doing nothing to hide his dislike for them.

"You killed the beast then?" Ceirw asked.

"With a slow arrow." Solas confirmed with a grin wide and wicked. She had heard the tale of Fen'harel and the slow arrow. Every time she linked something in the past with something in the future it made her heart stop.  
"Shot up into the sky?" Ceirw questioned him, returning his grin. Her grin only breaking wider when Solas' fell.

"How did you know that?--" His eyebrows furrowed together but before he could continue his line of questioning a shrill maddening cackle was heard faintly coming from the main chamber. Ceirw had no time to ask before he was on his feet and out her room door.

In a fleeting glance he called over his shoulder seriously, "Stay in here."


	8. Her Beauty And The Moonlight Over Threw Ya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter I've been so excited to write, so I hope you like it as much as I did writing it! As always your kind words are just ridiculously flattering!

Like a fly to a wall, Ceirw flushed her body to the door of her chamber. Her ear was red hot from where it pressed mercilessly against the wood. In silence she listened. Solas spoke hotly with another voice. To her chagrin the words were muffled but she got the general feel of the conversation. His voice was loud, confident and snarky, every now and then he would laugh. The other voice would laugh too, but not like Solas' not dry and dark. This other person's laugh was maddening and gleeful. Borderline hysterical. Still, there was no shouting and so Ceirw could only deduce this was friend not foe. A god then? The shrill laugh came once more and it hit her. Andruil, she'd heard that laugh before in the woods that day. Goddess of sacrifice, oh how she wanted to go outside and show her the meaning of the word sacrifice.

A little moment longer and the voices where silent. Andruil had either left or they were not speaking. At the risk they might be talking in whispers, Ceirw creaked her door open. It was definitely better, she could hear better now and she was so thankful that Solas had not thought to put the barrier back.

"Do not dare try that again." It was Solas' voice, he spoke to her in that cold frightening tone she had heard not so long ago herself.

"I can wait." Andruil's voice replied in sickly sweet glee.

"You can wait a hundred years and then a day more and the answer will still be no."

Ceirw jumped at the sound of a crash that followed Solas' words. There was a lingering silence and then footsteps fading. A minute only one set of footsteps sounded out on the floor and Ceirw shut the door back over. She scrambled back over to the bed and had just sat down a slight breathless when Solas walked back in.  
Right away she noticed the red smeared around his lower lip and jaw and raised both her brows. For the slightest second she assumed it was blood but then it was clear, Ceirw could identify the smear as lip paint. The Dalish never spoke of that.  
For whatever reason, Solas looked unhappy about it.

"What was all that about?" Ceirw asked with her shocked brows still raised highly on her forehead.

"You." Solas replied, breaking into a pace. Which was something she'd never seen him do. "Andruil is holding a ball to celebrate the success of the hunt. She requested I come and bring you along as her guest."

"What? Why?" Ceirw asked dumbfounded. Andruil held no love for elves it seemed and apparently held a lot of lust for Solas. What on earth would she want with Ceirw?

"For no good reason, I assure you." Solas answered stopping in his pace to face Ceirw. Directing his words directly at her he continued, "She is not a stable woman and you caused her great offence. In order to prevent her killing you I owed her a favour and now she is collecting. We can not for-go this event."

"What would happen if we declined?" Ceirw wasn't sure she liked the idea that Andruil wanted to extend an invitation to her.

"I would have caused her great offence and under Elgar'nan's judgement she would be allowed vengeance. Even Mythal would not be able to intervene, my promise was very clear, your life for a favour. If I go back on it now it could only lead to trouble."

Well this was all much more serious than she had originally thought. She was an idiot for trying to save Sior in the woods that day. It had only lead to injury and regret. Now all attempt of her remaining uninvolved in history was at risk.

"So what are we going to do, Solas?"

"We play at politics." Solas replied breaking into a wide mischievous grin. "Oh, I do love a party."

 

* * *

 

 

"I see there are some things time does not change." Solas joked, stepping lightly on his feet as he walked in a perfect circle with Ceirw, both their hands raised but not touching each other as the danced. Each of them holding another hand stiffly behind their back as the moved elegantly despite not music. Then on the fifth step, a turn and their hands fell, only to be replaced with the other and the circle was stepped again, each of them a perfect mirror of the other.

"I've been to enough weddings to know that dancing is unavoidable." Ceirw commented, moving into step with Solas and turning from him. She took hold of his hand and it occurred to that minus her once misplaced hug and his cleaning of her wounds, this was the first real contact the had. Side by side the step in unison. "Still I don't see why I must dance at this party?"

"Because," Solas retorted in his familiar educating tone. "Andruil will be planning something, If I'm correct she has spoken to either June or Sylaise and she'll be waiting for you to slip up. This no simple party, there is a great danger that comes with it."

"You almost sound excited, I can't say it's a comfort." Ceirw chuckled back turning to Solas as he placed his hand on her waist and she, hers on his shoulder. The dance was fluid and easy to follow. It would be easier still if she had music, which she assumed would accompany the ball.

"It's never boring. To not admire the skill that goes into the deception would be illogical." They broke from the dance and Ceirw bowed to Solas as custom. He did not bow back. Still, he seemed to hold on to the pride that he was a god and therefore better than her. She let out a sigh and straightened up. "Dances are puzzles of intrigue masked in dancing where everyone is lying. Smiling at people they dislike over the punch bowl, waltzing with strangers both desirable and hideous, all with some nefarious schemes going on under the layers. It takes a great deal of cunning to solve them."

"That sounds exhausting." Ceirw groaned slapping to palms to her face and pulling at her cheeks.

"I imagine for a mortal." Solas shrugged and Ceirw narrowed her eyes at the man as he waltzed on over to his throne. That arrogant bastard really knew how to choose his words. "There will also be a section where gifts are exchanged. It is courtesy to bring a gift for your host but it is also expected that other gods in attendance receive one too."

"Why would gods exchange gifts when I get the feeling you don't even like each other?" Ceirw asked feeling more and more tired by the minute. At least she could trust Solas with bringing the gifts.

"It keeps the peace and despite some of their actions the pantheon are not all as cruel as they seem. Many of them hold the people highly and other gods higher. Gifts are not only a way of gaining favour, they are a way of separating them from the dark ones." Ceirw took great notice that Solas said 'them' and not 'us'.

 

Solas lead her to one of the other many doors breaking off from his main rotunda. This one much to her surprise lead to a wash-room. A very beautiful and large wash-room. In centre of the room was a mountain of obsidian with steps carved into it. Atop the mountain's roof sat a porcelain tub. Around the rest of the room there was interesting statues. Some depicting the obvious wolves. Some stags, a few depictions of elves, and one particularly stunning dragon. Several chests loitered the room too and a large table that different coloured,sized and shaped bottles sat on. Lastly, in the corner beside the statue of a werewolf, sat a room divider on which a dress hung over.

He told her to bathe and get dressed, he would be waiting back in the rotunda for her. There they would talk more in depth about the proceedings of the ball and her behaviours. The nerve, the most hot-headed man she'd ever met and yet he was scolding her on her outbursts. Ha! She nodded in thanks however, and watched him go. She then proceeded to march up the staircase to the bathtub. Oh a bath would be nice.

Ceirw Lavellen lay back in the ceramic tub hiked on top a marble stairwell. Her eye's flickered taking in the sight above her. The caves ceiling torn open and shattered at the top of the dome. The only room she had yet seen where Solas' temple lay bare to an open sky. The stars glitter faintly in a way that the painted ones never could. Amongst the darkness of black-marble moonlight radiated the room. Ceirw disbelieved that this night sky was truly 'real', but for now it was real enough and as calming as she had ever seen.

The lithe elf let out a relaxed sigh. Sinking deeper into the warm still water. It was the first time since she had travelled here that she felt un-tense. All the vigilant up keeping to be discreet and careful, washing away with every gentle wave of water. A light moan resounded in Ceirw's throat. It was nice to feel waveless and tranquil, like nothing else mattered. Even if only for a moment, and for the longest of moments she let her self relax and lose all track of time.

After what seemed like a life time of bliss relaxing, her slender fingers reached for the oiled cloth set on the side of the tub. It permeated a soft scent of mint, nettles and rosemary.

Ceirw inhaled deeply, the intoxicating scent reminding her of being home. Not Haven, but with Clan Lavellan. Running through the forests, frolicing like the elf society would have her be and loving every moment of it. Filling her lungs with the scent only brought her back there. Languidly she dragged the rag along her arched throat. She scrubbed gently down, dripping the oils in to her clavicle, then further still. She had to sit up in the tub, much to her displeasure but she was here to clean and so she rubbed the cloth over her bare breasts.

As she washed her chest, thoughts turned to the 'ball' they were to attend. Solas was at least excited, but that was a little comfort. Briefly her eyes flickered to the dress that hung over the folding screen divider in the corner. It was a beautiful dress but not like that of shemlen making. It reminded her of the dalish marriage robes. Though this dress was grander by far, too grand for her. The first layer was under-things, a black bodice of bindings, above she would wear a long black, silk floor length dress that cut away at the chest. It's lower half was also unforgiving in it's splits up either side from ankle to thigh. The third layer came in form of a thick white cloth that would tie around her waist as a belt. It was beautiful, it just all wasn't her. Of course being at a ball in the ancient time of Arlathan wasn't supposed to be her either.

She continued the chore of cleansing herself, just brushing past her hip-bone when she let out another sigh. Followed by a groan. The groan however, did not belong to her. The wash-cloth dropped with a splash back into the water. Quickly followed by Ceirw as she submerged beneath it's modest depths.

Her eyes fixed on Solas, standing beneath the marble archway of the door. His own eyes fixed on her in turn. Dark and hooded as they watched her unabashedly. It had never occurred to her that Solas might lust for flesh. In her days as prisoner she had not once felt threatened in that sense. She still did not. Gazing over him now, he looked more uncomfortable than anything, and so she broke the silence and tension for him.

"Was I taking too long?" She asked in a disconcerted tone. Come to think of it, she had been there a while. The steamy water was now cool edging on cold, but she had been too caught up in washing away all the dirt and soreness to notice.

"No." In the time it took Ceirw to ask her question, Solas had composed himself. He looked as un-phased by the situation as if she were sitting on a chair fully clothed. She couldn't have been more thankful for it. "Although we will be leaving soon and so I urge you to dress. I came to check as you have been in here for while and I couldn't be sure you weren't breaking things or touching stuff."

"So by no, you really mean yes?" Ceirw scoffed with a sour chuckle, already regretting the kindness she paid him in breaking the tension. The very nerve of him to think that she would wander his dwelling and invade his privacy considering the trouble her curiosity had brought her already.

"You will forgive me for being suspicious." Solas quipped, "To simply clean, you have been in here for the good part of an hour." That long? She must have really needed that.

He had a point and she could not fault him on it. She couldn't trust in herself that given the opportunity to learn more about him again that she would not take it. "I will consider forgiving you." Came her calm stoic reply as she lifted her chin and confidently stood from the water. For all his discomfort earlier, Solas now seemed utterly bored, save for an eye-roll at her comment. She could but assume it was her fright that had overthrew him. He was no doubt unaccustomed to frightening women in baths. Had the circumstances been changed, she would have been the same. Fortunately they were both mature adults. Well, adult and god.

Ceirw walked down the steps clad in a towel and reaching the bottom, stepped behind the screen and began putting on the dresses layers. There was a little bit of trouble but in the end she got everything on. When she stepped back out, Solas was gone. She walked out the the room and down the little hall to the main chamber. Solas sat waiting on his throne with a costume change of his own. Black trousers and foot bindings, a silver woollen tunic and a large white woollen cloak clasped with a silver chain. On his head his small skull crown was replaced with one of a wolf skull that sat completely over his long dark auburn hair. Amongst said hair, hung crystals and threads of silver. It was a bizarre but marvellous sight. He could truly pull it off and for the slightest of seconds it took Ceirw's breath away. She could not help but think in the white wool he was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Did the weight of that portrayal go unmissed by him or was it purposeful, she couldn't help but wonder.

She shook herself from her thoughts as she felt a light heat burning on her cheeks. She was being ridiculous, acting like a youth ogling boys at a gathering. Still as Solas' eyes drank her in the blush would not leave. Between the incident in the bath and now this, she was almost considering Solas in a different light. That was until she remembered that he was the god of betrayal and scarred with his magic whilst almost destroying the whole world. Suddenly his looks were easier to forget.

"So, should we leave now?" She asked composing herself as Solas stood.

"There is one more thing." Solas commented walking over to the room that she knew was his study. He stepped into it's darkness and she waited silently in the main chamber, cautiously looking at the open door. She knew he kept many things in there so her conclusion was it must be where he kept the gifts for the other gods. In a few moment Solas stepped out holding in his hands a beautiful head-dress. It was a circlet hair crown made out of crystal flowers and from it two crystals wound up into the shape of halla horns. He walked over and in the silence of the room placed the head-dress upon her head.

"Isn't this a bit much for a slave or whatever I am?" She asked tracing over the shape of her new jewellery with gentle fingers.

"You are not attending the ball as my priest or slave, you are attending as formally invited by the goddess Andruil and so it is custom for you to dress as such." That only served to make her feel more worried.

"Besides," Solas added with a wicked grin, "Wearing a halla crown will really piss Andruil off."


	9. The Dance: Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I apologise for missing a day of updates, I just started back at college and boy was it a shock to the system after the long winter break. The dance ended up more elaborate than I originally planned so I had to break it into a couple chapters. Enjoy part one and also the introduction of my thus far, favourite character to write! 
> 
> P.S Your comments are all so beautiful and I never expected this fic to become so popular, thank you so very very much <3

Despite Solas cockiness and ease as they approached the temple of Andruil, Ceirw was not feeling so comforted. Perhaps she would feel better if he had told her what their intentions were at this ball. The words about pissing Andruil off sat anxiously in the pit of her stomach. She felt anger to Andruil for her actions against the slaves, but this was not her battle. Her battle was against the very man she was walking beside thousands of years into the future. He dressed her up to present among the other gods as equal but she felt nothing more than a pawn. A pawn in the game of chess that she didn't know the rules to. 

Solas stated that he need keep her alive for her value to him in the future. She was mildly comforted by that statement, if only it didn't come from the lips of a trickster god. As it turned out, she also needed him to not only to survive here but get back to the future. In this world he was her only ally and as they stepped side by side through the gates of the temple she knew that they would have to support each other for tonight at least. 

Every foot fall was careful. As nobility and religious figures bowed in the country yard, Ceirw thought only of her steps. She was dancing already to their silent tune and it was painful. The dalish vowed never to be slaves and now she was a slave of aristocracy. 

Solas and she paused at two large, solid gold doors. From the side of her eye she watched, but he made no movement to open them. Hesitantly she made to open them but Solas' fingers shot out and circled her wrist, holding her in place. It was a second or so later that the doors pulled open and Solas' hold on her released as quick as it had came. Not even a foot in the door and already she was messing up. That was not very promising. 

On the other side of those doors was a long hallway at the end of which open doors lead to the grand ball room. Ceirw's eyes took in the hall. At either side of the walk-way there were large pomegranate trees with branches spreading out so far they closed in an arch, creating a tunnel of nature. A beautiful contrast to the gold walls that held the plants. Ceirw also noticed much to her dismay that Solas had been deliberately waiting for Andruil's slaves to open the door. Said slaves now closed the doors behind them, never making direct eye contact. 

"We will be announced, then we will be greeted by Andruil, exchange gifts and then mingle." Solas whispered as they stepped down the hallway. "No matter who you speak to, assume every polite question is an absurd accusation." As he spoke he did not even look at her, but her reply was a simple nod. 

"Introducing, Fen'harel, The Dread Wolf, He Who Hunts Alone, Lord of Tricksters, The Great Wolf, Roamer of the Beyond, and Bringer of Nightmares." A man called as they stepped into the most beautiful ballroom Ceirw had ever seen. The dance floor was mad grass and stone steps lead down to it from a where they stood. At the other side of the room, Andruil sat upon a giant golden throne, far too big for anyone. It was carved to look like a tree and at the very top emeralds were used on the 'leafs'. Ceirw couldn't help but think it was a waste. People in her world starved and yet the gods spared no expense. Between Andruil and them was dozens and dozens of eyes watching them with no hidden curiosity. Now she understood why Orleasian's wore masks. It hid the blush of everyone's critiquing eye. 

"Joining him as honoured guest of Andruil, his priestess; Chantress Aur'Ceirw." Another god that knew her name without her telling them and now everyone would. People in ancient Elvhen sure did gossip. 

Solas and Ceirw stopped before Andruil whose wide toothy grin was the most unnerving thing Ceirw had ever seen. The goddess did not stand from her throne, merely bowed her head in greeting to Solas. Solas with a smirk, mirrored her bow of the head and Ceirw followed his lead. 

"Andruil." Solas greeted loudly and clearly, ever so confident in addressing a goddess and a court filled with them. "I present to you my gift, to congratulate you on your hunt." From his robes Solas removed his foci. In a flash of green energy poured from the orb, drenching the whole ball room in the light.

It was not until the light subdued did Ceirw see the 'gift' standing at Solas' side. Her jaw dropped at the sight of a eight foot wolf. The beast's fur was blacker than coal and it sat proudly beside it's creators side. This would all be strange enough, if it were not for the fact the wolf had three heads. All of it's heads produced from one neck, each as identical as the other. Each one containing six sets of eyes, glowing violet like that of a pride demon's. 

"A marvellous creature of nightmares, how thoughtful, Fen'harel." Andruil replied. Ceirw could see that the gift was very pleasing to Andruil and she couldn't help but wonder what the goddess might gift Solas in return. "I bid you you great welcome to my ball room." Her eyes twisted and fell upon Ceirw. The manic smile Andruil held only stretched wider. "You are also most welcome too, little halla. I have a gift for you both." Ceirw kept her smile, but the 'little faun' and 'little halla' comments were getting under her skin. To some they might seem simply endearments but she was well aware of the patronising that went with those titles. 

Another flash of light, and at Andruil's side stood a golden halla. It was much like any halla but it's horns were longer and more curled. The creature was fully white, bar it's legs and stomach which were ochre as though it had just waded through a river of gold. Ceirw could not see how this gift might be in spite. It was a beautiful creature clearly directed at Ceirw's name. It was personal and thoughtful. 

Andruil confirmed her suspicions in saying, "Sadly, this little creature has a short life span, I'm afraid it will die on you soon. It could even be a matter of days." Ceirw swallowed the growing lump in her throat. It was not only a dig at the knowledge of her short life span, but also a threat. Hopefully in the days it took for the golden halla to die, she would be far gone from this world. 

"A thoughtful gift none the less, Andruil." Solas replied with a smirk. "I'll be sure to enjoy the gift whilst I still can." Solas' words would have been straight forward if he didn't place a hand gently on Ceirw's shoulder. The implication and his words were obvious. For the briefest of moments Andruil was not the only one angry at Solas' actions. Whilst the goddess scowled, Ceirw inwardly cursed the embarrassment of being so blatantly used as a prop. 

"Please do." Andruil shrilled out and her scowl eventually turned into an upward grin once more. 

Two guardsmen in full suits of armour came to take each of the creatures away. Solas removed his hand from Ceirw and out of the direct presence of Andruil, they moved to mingle. Ceirw was most certainly happy being a silent observer. 

Since their arrival two more guests had been announced. Mythal, looking as beautiful as ever with her priest Abelas by her side, and Elgar'nan with a priest at either side of him. Ceirw didn't know what she expected him to look or act like, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight of him. He was adorned in gold that clashed across his dark skin and upon his head sat the largest crown she had ever seen. It looked as though it was a forest rooting from his skull, he wore it so naturally. For a brief second Ceirw caught his gaze. His black bottomless eyes were too intense for her to stare at them much longer than a second. He was far more brooding than she expected and the vibe he gave off was unsettling. Of all the gods she had yet to see, he was the most terrifying. 

When the music began Solas was all too eager to slip from Ceirw's side. His excuse being, 'I must go join the festivities on the dance floor. Try not to get in to trouble.' Without another word he left Ceirw utterly alone with no way to protest. If she knew one thing for sure it was Solas' actions at this particular party were beginning to piss her off. He didn't seem to care that she was out of place or nervous and now he had left her all alone in a room of guests he had implied to that he was 'enjoying her while he could'. 

At first she watched the the dancing on the main floor but that soon became a boring task. Dancing was far more enjoyable to take part in than watch. At least that's what she always thought. With no one begging for conversation or offers to dance, the elf found herself at the buffet table. There was so much food on display she was sure that most of it was going to go to waste. Ceirw picked up a cherry and popped it into her mouth. The fruit was so rich and sweet that she found herself digging in to all the treats on the table.

"You're beautiful." A voice beside Ceirw spoke in her ear and the elf all but dropped the peach she held in her hand. Steady on. She turned to see the owner of the compliment. She then had to look up several inches. That was an absurdly tall elf. Shemlen height at least. Still, the ears did not lie. He stood there like a ghost smiling at her softly. Everything about him was silvery white. From his eyes and hair to his skin and clothes. 

"Thank you." Ceirw replied after swallowing a grape, flattered but unnerved by the man's appearance and his words. "Really, you should see me first thing in the morning or without all this--no that's not what I meant I meant, it's not. I just--" She had been left alone for a few minutes and already she was slipping up and making a fool of herself.

"I was not speaking of your mortal form. It's your soul which is beautiful." He offered, saving her from her tangled web of accidental propositions. 

"Oh?" Ceirw mouthed back looking bashfully to the kind stranger. "How do you figure that?" 

"I am Falon'Din my dear, it is my lot in this life to 'figure' these things." He offered her another soft smile and Ceirw was sure she was just staring agape at him now. How did she possibly reply to that. 

"I uh...appreciate your words, I cannot begin to express how ...well..." She waved a hand gesture because no words seemed to form in her lips, "...that is to hear." Ceirw was lucky Falon'Din was right beside her because for all extensive purposes she could have drop dead right there. She really could drop dead. This man was death and he stood beside her smiling. Solas did not lie when he said that the night's ball would be ripe with danger. 

"Do not be frightened, Golden Deer." Falon'Din whispered back with that ever present smile. "You should not fear death, it comes for all of us in the end." His words spoke such wisdom and yet his cryptic-ness and warm smile kept her thrown off guard. 

"Forgive me." Ceirw replied looking up into Falon'Din's silver eyes. "You're just not what I expected. Us mortals hear such stories." She offered him a kind smile to accompany her accusing words and to her surprised he returned it. It was strange, but being around the man was like standing next to an anaesthetic. His warmth was surprisingly comforting.

"Do not beg forgiveness. I imagine such stories are more twisted where you come from." Falon'Din retorted. The implication behind his words made Ceirw shudder. The death god extended a hand to her and with his ever present soft smile he asked, "May I request this dance, beautiful creature?"

Ceirw wasn't entirely sure how to reply. Solas' hadn't prepared her for the etiquette of a god asking her to dance. She herself had barely imagined a noble might ask, let alone a god. Life with the dalish hadn't prepared her for how stunningly kind and flattering Falon'Din was. The god was either very good at the game he played or he genuinely cared for the people with a deep love. Ceirw could not decipher which of those answers was true but she secretly hoped it the latter. After a small inward debate, she took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. 

"If you don't mind me asking." Ceirw said as they both broke into a dance. Accompanying it was the most beautiful melody on panpipes. "What did you mean when you said 'more' twisted where I come from?" 

Falon'Din smiled as he gracefully span Ceirw. Only replying once they were face to face again. "A great many gifts are burdened upon me. One of such gifts is that of sight." Ceirw all but tripped in the dance and it was only to Falon's skilful footing that she did not. "I can not know everything, but I know that your life span is short and yet you die thousands of years from now. All it took was some conversing with the dead to confirm my theories."

"May I ask what it is you plan to do with that knowledge?" Ceirw asked nervously, her hands growing more and more sweaty as they clasped his. 

"Nothing. Tis not my place." Whilst Ceirw found that relief she could not help but be slightly suspicious. Falon'Din must have seen this in her expression as he clarified, "Changing a future already forged is irresponsible. That and I have heard what you did in the hunt. I think you are good for Fen'harel." 

"You approve of my rebellion?" Ceirw asked confusedly, two eyebrows hiked up on her forehead. 

"I approve of you sparking his." Falon'Din confirmed.

The words did not have long to sink in when a hand gracefully tapped both Falon'Din's shoulder and her own. The knot in her stomach un-twisted at the sight of Solas. She was almost worried they were going to be kicked out for their un-tasteful talk of rebellion. 

"May I cut in?" Solas asked in a polite and cheerful tone. 

"Of course, Fen'harel." Falon'Din replied softly. Unlike Solas earlier, this god was not afraid to bow to a mortal and thus Ceirw returned the favour. "Enjoy the rest of the dance." 

Solas stepped in as Falon'Din left. Whilst he looked suspicious all Ceirw could do was smile. Perhaps it was all a trick and a mask Falon wore to get information from her, but to her knowledge she hadn't given any he did not already know. It was a comfort for her to find that in a world so dark there was a god amongst them that genuinely adored the people. Even if years from now they had got him wrong. From that day onward she would not fear death, knowing that when it came for her, she would be greeted by the kindest being she had met. 

The next dance was a slow dance, and part of her thanked Solas for his intervention. She was not sure she could survive a slow dance with death. Still, to dance with Solas at this party would catch some unwanted attention. It put a lot of implication on appearances. Solas drew Ceirw in until both their hips brushed. As if it were a second nature to him, he took her hand and waist and set off in the dance. She could feel every muscle in his body guide her around the ballroom with ease and as Solas brought his lips to her ear in a whisper, she found herself praying once more for a mask to hide her blush. 

"What did Falon'Din want with you?" His voice was curious and firm but his breath was hot against her neck and his chest so flush against her own that she was having trouble not taking the question seriously. 

"He was just being friendly." Ceirw retorted, coming to her senses. "Considering you abandoned me, I thought it was very nice of him." 

"I doubt it. I have never trusted him or his brother." Solas scoffed and his lips lightly brushed against her earlobe. She was beginning to think he was doing it on purpose. "The man is a snake." Solas' hand slipped down from her waist to the small of her back and she was beginning to question which man was really the snake. 

"Well I like him... and do you mind!? I understand that you're trying to make Andruil jealous, but I am not your chess piece. I won't have myself thought of as Fen'harel's latest dalliance, just so you can feel smug!" Ceirw replied in whispered annoyance, thankful that the anger masked her bashfulness. 

"I didn't mean to use you..." Solas started, but was cut of by Ceirw pulling back in their embrace. 

"You didn't mean to get caught." She informed him, lowering her head in a deep bow. One that he once more did not return. "I'm your friend, not your toy. So start treating me like one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> funfact: I headcanon that Elgar'nan looks just like Idris Elba.


	10. The Dance: Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You people are just wonderful. Like I cannot believe how sweet you are. I'm sorry my replies to your comments are ridiculously generic and stupid, I just don't know what to say to such sweet things! <3
> 
> Hopefully another chapter will be up later today, concluding the dance :)

Solas had not tried to apologise further after she left him on the dance floor. Ceirw suspected he wouldn't attempt to apologise at all. It was easy for her to imagine he didn't think he did anything wrong. Playing tricks on people is after all what he does. Still it bothered her. It bothered her that despite all the progress they had made these past days, she was more willing to consider him a friend than he was to consider her. Ceirw couldn't help but ponder if Solas ever considered her a friend, in this time or the future. In either scenario it would demand him to lessen himself and be okay with befriending a lesser mortal creature. With all the stubborn arrogance and pride she'd seen Solas with in this world, she found it hard to believe he could ever lower himself to allow that.

The dance was growing tedious as the night strung on. Unable to let down her guard, Ceirw took little pleasure in the waltzing with nobles. Particularly the noble men and women who got a little too handsy. Ceirw would think that being the priestess of Fen'Harel some people might show a little more respect, but apparently that title was easily forgotten amidst sweaty bodies on a crowded dance floor. 

When escape showed itself possible, Ceirw made a bee-line off the dance floor. She had danced with a dozen nobles and each drilled on endlessly. She suspected they were looking for 'The Dread Wolf's favour', but Ceirw ignored their rambling when they started tossing out compliments. Nodding and smiling seemed easier than actually having to converse with people who willing took up slaves. Elves who branded their own race and kin, just to impress fallen idols like Andruil. 

Like a chantry mouse, Ceirw kept to the walls. Scurrying down past door upon door, always keeping the dance floor in sight. During the night's festivities she had lost track of Solas, not that she worried for the man. He could certainly take care of himself. It then came to her notice that her more recent friend Falon'Din was also scarce to be seen. Left to her own devices with no one to talk to, Ceirw decided to wander. In past times, her curiosity had gotten her into trouble, but assuming she did not stray far from the party she was sure nothing bad could come of it. 

Ceirw found herself in the gardens after her cautious wandering. Temple guardians stood around every corner and as none seemed to prevent her curiosity, she could only assume she was allowed to be there. The gardens were beautiful. Elfroot grew wild amongst spindleweed and crystal grace. Fruit trees outlined the garden path and grapevines crawled up the golden temple walls. Ceirw dared not to touch any of the un-plucked fruits or flora. Dalish folk tales had warned her of that much, at least. 

The garden itself was open-roofed and so droplets of rain poured down. The rain was not heavy but enough for Ceirw to know that if she stayed out here catching air much longer, she would be soaked to the bone and her beautiful dress ruined. She inhaled the magical smell of wet, cut grass one last time and turned to stalk back to the main hall. 

That was when she overheard the voices from the open window above her. 

"Elgar'nan this is insanity, do you truly wish to waste your time like this?" It was Solas' voice. As cocky as ever, dismissing someone else's words. 

Ceirw tossed a look to either side of the garden. There was no one around and so she eagerly reached for a large rock. Ceirw pulled the damp stone to where she had stood beneath the window ledge. With it firmly in position, Ceirw stood on top of the rock, it giving her just enough of a boost to see in through the window. 

"I am not denied so easily, Fen'Harel." Ceirw saw Andruil hiss as she circled him like the true huntress she was and he, her prey. The huntress and the wolf. It was a battle of invisible arrows and fangs and from what Ceirw knew of Elgar'nan's judgement it did well for them both to be cautious. 

Around them both in a captive audience was a mixture of elaborately dressed elves. Most she recognised. Mythal, Elgar'nan, June, Sylaise, and Falon'Din. One however, she did not. It wasn't too far of a stretch to conclude that the other was Dirthamen. Dirthamen stood at Falon'Din's side. Despite being twins as legend said, neither god looked a like. Falon'Din was a pale and pure being whilst Dirthamen cloaked himself in his secrets. Ceirw could not see what he wore as above his clothing, if he wore any, he adorned a large black-feathered cloak. in accompany, he wore no crown but only feathers in his hair, which tied back into a tight braided bun. His skin was like cool, cracked ice and he watched the scene unfolding with his red bloodshot eyes. 

"You are mad and if that is all you wish to discuss, then we're finished here." Solas replied nonchalant. His lack of caring and easy dismissal almost bothered Ceirw, she could not imagine how Andruil felt at that moment. Of course, she only had to remember that Andruil was an insane woman who murdered slaves and all feeling of sympathy was lost. 

"It's that little halla you run with isn't it?" Andruil accused eye's narrowing on Solas. "It is why you had me spare her, you are infatuated." 

"The mortal? The only one insane enough to love a mortal is you Andruil, after the disaster that happened with Ghilan'nain I can't believe you'd think me so stupid. I do not care for the woman, I promise you that much." 

Ceirw felt a small sting at Solas' words. In other circumstances she might have focused on his lack of care for her , but right now she was far to interested in the idea that Andruil had fallen in love with Ghilan'nain. Their stories had always been intertwined but Ceirw had never heard a version were the two women were lovers.

"You promise?" Andruil laughed back with glee, she made no recognition of his Ghilan'nain comment and Ceirw was left wondering. For the briefest of seconds Solas looked full of regret. As soon as the emotion pained his face, it was gone and replaced with a stoic expression. "You promised me!" Andruil chanted on, finally turning to Elgar'nan. "You heard him promise." 

"My lack of feelings for the mortal does not change my opinion of you." Solas assured and Andruil's laughter ceased. 

"If I find out you are lying and you hunt that little halla without my permission--" Andruil did not get to finish her threat.

"Then I will see you are granted appropriate vengeance." Elgar'nan spoke in a deep rumbling voice. It was still and full of power. "Fen'Harel, you have sworn to another god not to break an oath. As you stated before, we do not want another Ghilan'nain mess. Gods come first and the people second, if you cannot control yourself around your pet, Andruil may seek whatever vengeance she sees fit." 

"If I might interject..." Falon'Din's voice spoke up and the god made to step forward. 

"No." Elgar'nan stated, silencing all the gods once more in a voice that gave Ceirw goosebumps. "The judgement here is passed. Fen'Harel is forbidden to hunt the halla and now we move on to the other business at hand."

"The quicklings." Dirthamen spoke up. "Human, they call themselves."

"I went with Dirthamen to observe them." Sylaises added. "Some do not even yield the gift of magic and their live-spans are short. They are not good for the people." The gods seemed to consider these words carefully. Even Andruil took a moment out of being insane to listen. 

"I have seen death." Dirthamen said unfeelingly. Ceirw was listening so intently to the rulings of the pantheon that she did not notice the rain fall hitting heavier, nor did she notice the rock she stood on, getting more and more drenched as the gods spoke. Which made it all the more surprise when she slipped on the wet surface, falling back onto the wet grass with an 'oompf.'

Fortunately her yelp of surprise got caught in her throat and she did not alert any of the gods to her spying. Ceirw scrambled to her feet and to her dismay her pretty dress was soaked and all up the back, blades of damp grass clung to the material. Groaning, Ceirw trudged back to the main hall, wiping at the back of her gown in attempt to get rid of some of the grass stains and blades. "Shit, shit, shit!" She cussed under her breath as she took shelter in the doorway. 

"Do you need help?" A cool voice asked and Ceirw turned to find it belonged it to Mythal's priest. The one she had seen in the forest the day of Andruil's hunt. His name escaped her, having only heard it once or twice spoken. 

"Oh, I remember you, you're Mythal's priest. You don't need to offer. I'm not sure you could do anything, anyway. This dress is ruined." Ceirw replied with a half-hearted smile as she wiped her back. 

"Yes, I am Abelas. I was instructed by Mythal to look out for you tonight, it is not my offer you're denying." He said removing his cloak and revealing beautiful white-gold armour beneath it. Stepping forward, Abelas draped the dark green cape over Ceirw's bare and wet shoulders, covering the damage the grass had done to her dress. She stood completely still as Abelas' fastened the clip around her neck. 

"Thank you." Ceirw finally said as Abelas stepped back. 

"Do not thank me, thank Mythal." He replied rather stoic. 

"You really respect her, don't you?" 

"Mythal is a great protector. She loves the people. Even when we don't deserve it." Abelas looked down, lost in thought as he spoke, only to snap his head back up when his words ended. "She also sends you her deepest sympathies."

Ceirw's eyebrows furrowed at Abelas' latter statement. "What for?"

"I do not know." Abelas admitted. "Only time will tell."


	11. The Dance: Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't express how much some of these comments mean to me. They've definitely affected my motivation for this story and certainly helped me keep the right tone. This chapter is the final scene of the dance an what I like to call 'the character development' chapter. ;P

A musical bell chimed signalling all guest to gather in the main hall. Clad in Abelas' cloak, Ceirw tucked herself away in a dimly light corner. As the night grew on, she grew more weary. Upholding a charade of being entertained was more exhausting than she anticipated. She knew little about the local events to prattle in idle gossip and all she knew about the gods and future, she had to conceal to herself. It was infuriating for Ceirw to have the power to influence the world but knowing that she could not. There was an ache for her to confront Solas about what she overheard, but that would only lead to trouble. She would feel obliged to tell him about the humans. About what they did to the elvhen people. Then she would ask him why he locked the gods away, why he abandoned the people. Of course that would be pointless because he hadn't done it yet. Ceirw had to wonder if Solas was thinking of locking them away even now. How long had he planned his betrayal?

Another chime rang through out the hall and Ceirw was startled to find Solas had stolen to her side. He stood with her in the dull corner. A quick glance over his face told her that Solas was in a bad mood. His jaw jutted forward and he breathed deeply through his nose. However the talks had gone, it seemed they did not fall in Solas' favour.

"What's this?" He asked, side eyeing Abelas' robe as it veiled her.

"I had a mishap in the garden." Ceirw muttered back, nervously picking at her finger nails. To her relief she heard Solas laugh.

"I am hardly surprised." Solas replied. Ceirw looked up to find the him eyeing over her robe curiously. "Who does that belong to?"

"Abelas. Mythal is...looking out for me, apparently." Ceirw answered with a shrug. She didn't want to tell Solas about Abelas' worrying comment. She didn't know why Mythal sent her deepest sympathies but she was sure on top of many other things, Solas did not need to worry about it.

"Ah. I'm pleased to hear it wasn't your new idol, Falon'Din." Solas' voice held a teasing tone and he smirked as he spoke to Ceirw.

"Don't start that again, I like him."

"You would."

Ceirw let out a scoff. What was that supposed to mean? She liked to think that she had a good judge of character. Then again she was fool enough to trust Solas. She wanted to argue the point, or at least find out why Solas distrusted the other 'god' so much. Sadly, she was interrupted with another chime of a bell. This chime must have signified something important, because the whole hall of guests fell into a stony silence.

Andruil stood in front of her throne, her face was graced with a wicked grin as she addressed the whole court. "Favoured guests. I am honoured that you have joined me in the celebration of my recent hunt. Sadly, many of you could not be there." 'The lucky ones' Ceirw thought. she'd have given just about anything to not have been there. If she had an inkling to the true nature of the hunt, she would never have pressed Solas to take her. "Since you could not come to the hunt, I thought it only right I bring the hunt to you."

Ceirw frowned, her face contorting with confusion as she looked past the crowds of bodies. Being in the corner all she could see was Andruil through an opening. Her words made little sense and yet the 'oohs and ahhs' of the guest informed Ceirw there was something she wasn't seeing. Elves all around the room arched their heads, taking in a sight at the far left corner of the room. Whatever it was, Solas must have seen it before Ceirw did.

"Do not look." Solas hissed, painfully gripping Ceirw's shoulder to steer her away from the display. It was too late. In a small parting of guests, Ceirw could see plainly the sight of Siôr. He was beaten and bruised and bound in both feet and hand in those silver vines. Two guardsmen hauled him out, urging him across the floor to Andruil. When they finally got him to her side, the guardsmen kicked him to his knees.

Ceirw looked around the room with tears welling in her eyes. The nobles, elven people, stood looking either disgustingly entertained or shamefully curious. It should be no surprise, these were the nobles who were devout to the goddess of sacrifice and yet their lack of honour still hurt her. The slaves in the room looked terrified and the priests looked only sad. Amongst the crowd she found Abelas, looking as full of sorrow as his name meant. Beside him, Ceirw found Mythal, who stared back at her. The goddess' eyes were full of regret.

Andruil turned to one of her guards who brought out a sacrificial dagger. "I bless those present. Here in my temple to honour the hunt, I feel it is prudent a sacrifice be made tonight. I am willing to take a volunteer if one should arise to the occasion?"

Ceirw pulled forward. She was not so eager to die, but Falon'Din stood in this very hall and the promise she had made to Siôr still stood. If she could help, she would. The trouble was, Solas' grip was on her tight and he yanked her back, holding her tightly to his chest. Ceirw began to protest, to push against Solas' arms. Strings of curses started to spill from her lips drawing the attention of nearby guests, but Solas covered her mouth with his palm.

"Don't play into her game. That's what she wants." Solas spoke in a soothing voice. "You know this is not your place. The future needs you." Ceirw didn't want to listen to his hushed words, her mind was spiralling and tears were running down her face. His words rang true enough that she no longer tried to break free from his grasp, but it did not stop her from shaking her head. It was a weak objection, but the only one she could provide. When her movements stopped, Solas' hand moved from her mouth and moved back to containing her.

"Solas...please, let me leave. I can't stay here." Ceirw choked out in a sob. Her hands came up to cling to the protective hold Solas had on her. To his credit, he pulled them both further back into the corner until they were hidden in darkness. Apparently leaving was not an option. In the darkness of the corner, none of the guests could see either of them. It did not prevent Ceirw from being able to see Siôr, however. There, they both stood literally backed into a corner, the prey of the huntress as she took her sacrificial dagger in hand.

"No?" Andruil called out, barely concealing her disappointment at Ceirw's lack of intervention. She raised the dagger up and began speaking words that fell deaf on Ceirw's ears. All she could hear was her own heartbeat, building louder and louder, beating faster and faster, as she watched Siôr struggling on the ground bound and broken. Knowing that there was nothing she could do. It was him or her and in this situation she had to choose her. Ceirw watched as Andruil plunged the dagger downward and then could watch no longer.

A scream of pain, cried out. Followed moments later by gurgling noises, muffled by audience reaction.

Ceirw had turned in Solas' restraint, burying her eyes in the crook of his neck. A sound of gasps and cheers echoed through the dance-hall and Ceirw choked out a sob. In her struggle, the front of Abelas' cape had pulled back. Ceirw stood pressed against Solas, soaking his robes with the dampness of her rain-stained dress and soaking them further with the tears she shed into his collar. Solas did not say anything as Ceirw quietly shook against him. He stood silently and allowed her to let out her grief, never once letting his hands fall from the circle they had made around her and never once complaining that she was messing his clothes.

Minutes and minutes passed and eventually the music started to play once more and the conversation sparked up. It was longer after that, that Solas gently pulled Ceirw from him. Her eyes were red and blotchy and she felt only exhaustion.

"I did not know." Solas spoke matter of factly, looking over Ceirw with something close to concern. Pity.

"But I should have." Ceirw replied, pulling back from Solas and wiping her eyes with the hem of Abelas' robe. She turned reluctantly and was thankful that the spot were Siôr had lay was now clean. Andruil no doubt did not want him defiling her temple with stains of blood.

"Can we leave?" Ceirw begged weakly. All fight for the evening lost.

"I think that would be wise." Solas agreed and quietly they both left the corner, in swift pursuit of the exit.

Ceirw was angry. Angry that she couldn't save Siôr, but angrier still that Andruil knew to use him against her. It was hard enough getting over the man's death when she knew she almost prevented it. Now it was excruciatingly painful, knowing that it had been pro-longed with torture, only to torment her. Only as bait to get her to give herself up and in the end she could not even do that for him. She couldn't save him, because she thought herself more important. What kind of person did that make her?

As they reached the temple doors, a familiar face stood, smiling widely at Ceirw and Solas. "I took him to the beyond." Falon'Din said gently. "He is happier there and no one can hurt him. As we walked the plains, he spoke of many things. He spoke kindly of you and your bravery."

Ceirw had thought there was no way she could feel better, but there it was. A pale ghostly symbol of hope standing right before her and telling her things that made her heart ache less. She still felt pain and guilt for what he went through, but to know that he was in a better place made everything just slightly easier.

"Even if that's not true, I appreciate you saying it." Ceirw said in thanks.

 

* * *

 

 

The travel back to Solas' dwelling was silent. Neither Solas or Ceirw spoke of any of the evening's events. When they got back, Ceirw only wanted to sleep and dream of a better time when none of these things were happening. A time where all her problems were ones she could close with her hand or fight with frost. She had every intention of heading back to her chamber when she recalled the halla crown upon her head.

"Oh. You'll be wanting this back." Ceirw replied weakly turning to Solas and removing the head-dress. She offered it to him and he took it, paying it not even a second of interest as he tossed it across the room. Against the wall behind him, the crystal shattered, breaking the horns into a million tiny shards. Ceirw snapped to attention, but she did not see what good that did either of them.

"I shouldn't have made you wear that." Solas stated simply to Ceirw questioning look. "I should not have provoked Andruil."

"It's not your fault she did that to Siôr." Ceirw murmured softly, her eyebrows knitting together as she looked over Solas. "I'm sure she had that planned from the moment she invited me."

"I know." Solas replied looking at Ceirw but not quite meeting her eyes. "Still. She may have been kinder had I not treated her so badly...and I used you and made you a pawn in a bigger game than you realise...and that was wrong." Solas seemed to have trouble admitting the latter part of his statement, but he looked at Ceirw with genuine remorse.

Ceirw softened at Solas' words. She gazed upon his face so full of shame and felt that she was not longer seeing Fen'Harel, but solely Solas. The Solas she knew. The Solas that watched over her anchor and befriended her, the kind, wise man she needed.

Without thinking clearly, Ceirw stepped forward and let her eyes fall to Solas' lips. Her lips were but an inch from his and in the last second, Solas pulled away. Ceirw was left leaning in the air and as a blush spread across her face, she turned on the spot to leave. She had entirely misjudged the situation.

Ceirw could not escape the awkward turmoil as Solas circled his fingers around her wrist, forcing her to turn around and face him. Her face stung red and she could not meet his eyes. Of course he couldn't let her kiss him. Not only did he not want to and not care to, he wasn't allowed to. Ceirw inwardly cursed herself for the fool she was being.

"You said earlier that you wanted me to treat you like a friend..." Solas offered with a small smile. "I do not have many and none are mortal, but I will try."

"I think that's exactly what I need."


	12. The Place Where The Veil Is Thin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention that I love you guys? Cause I do, I really do. This was a fun chapter to right and I think you guys deserve the fluff after all the angst I've put you through. The next chapter will be up in about 10 hours. After I've slept and proof read it.  
> The next chapter might just be the one you've been 'waiting for' ;P

A week's time must have passed since the events at Andruil's palace and the cringe-worthy moment that took place after. Ceirw could not mourn any longer. The man who died was a man she did not know. As 'Herald' she would no doubt lose many more people in her own waking world. Loss was a regrettable; Ceirw understood that this was part of being in charge. Besides, hearing the words from Falon'Din comforted her more than she could ever say. It was a kindness the being need not have granted her and yet he did.

The threat of Andruil's envy only brought more consequence to Solas. Everyday and night since the ball, he slept. He searched the fade and conspired with spirits, all in effort of returning her home. Time magic was a pernickity and delicate. All he had discovered thus far was that it had to do with the mark and the breach and somehow the two intertwined. He had also kept up on his offer. When he wasn't in the fade, Ceirw found that Solas would steal to her side. He told her of the history and stories, keeping her mind off the dark realities. In turn she told him things. Things she would not have told him when they first met.

"You must promise that no matter what I tell you, you will not go out of your way to change it." Ceirw spoke, one evening in particular. She sat in the centre of the rotunda, crossed legged on the floor beside the fire as Solas sat on his throne. She found herself leaving her 'chamber' more and more lately. Ever since his offer of friendship, Ceirw found that Solas was more tolerable of her presence. Perhaps it was pity for how Andruil treated her, but the dynamic between them had changed notably.

"I assure you I will not." Solas answered after a silent moment of thought. Ceirw had enough faith in Solas' wisdom to believe he would not do anything foolish with her passed on knowledge of the future. Still, it troubled her to put this information in anyone's hands, let along The Dread Wolf's.

"I'm warning you if this is a trick..." Ceirw added in a scolding tone and Solas barked out a laugh.

"Oh, you're warning me? Well then; I should probably consider my answer, shouldn't I?"

"Solas. This is not a joke." Ceirw argued back with a small grin on her face, despite the heaviness in her words. Solas as snarky as ever, rolled his eyes but nodded.

"Fine. I assure you, I'm not going to change the future. I imagine doing so would be un-beneficial to me, seeing as I apparently play a key part in it."

Ceirw was hesitant. At first she only told Solas the important things. Like the elves living in a world full of dwarves and humans and even qunari. She told him that not all elves carried the gift of magic any more. With each revelation, Solas became more interested. For all the stories he told, Solas was an eager listener. At first he only perched on the edge of his throne like a curious gargoyle, but soon the man was sitting on the ground with Ceirw.

Minutes passed to hours and she became more confident in trusting Solas with important information. She dared to to tell him that the gods no longer interfered in the elvhen peoples lives. That seemed to shed some light on things. It explained to him why Ceirw did not recognise the vallaslin as slave markings and why her stories and legends of the gods seemed false.

"Why did the gods abandon the people?" Solas asked after one of Ceirw's comments. His brows furrowed in confusion. Something in his eyes said he didn't expect Ceirw to know the answer to that, but he wanted her to.

That was the big question. Ceirw had heard rumours but she could not tell Solas for sure that it was him who locked the gods away. The stories had been wrong about so many things, what if they were wrong about this too? She did not want to tell him and seal his fate as the betrayer, but she could not blatantly lie to him. She would simply avoid the question if she could.

"I don't know for sure." Ceirw muttered after a moments thought and Solas narrowed his eyes at her. Clearly seeing through her false words.

"You're lying to me." He accused pointedly. "What happens?"

Ceirw could not bare to look at Solas any longer and it only seemed to make him more concerned when her eyes fell to the floor. Suddenly the cracks in the marble were of far more interest to her than the curiosity on his face. She traced the brittle outlines with her eyes as she spoke. "There are only myths, legends." Ceirw murmured and Solas had to lean in closer to hear her words. "Many believe that it was...you. You betrayed both the forgotten ones and the pantheon, locking them away forever."

Solas was silent for so long that Ceirw had to look back up, just to confirm he was still in the room. He was. He was tensely sitting in front of her with a mask of confusion upon his face. Ceirw felt pain and pity for the man. For all his arrogance and stubbornness, he could not envision him self as the betrayer of the elvhen. Ceirw could not pull words from her lips to comfort him. For her whole life she believed this to be the truth and yet sitting before Solas now, neither of them could believe it.

"Why would I do that?" Solas whispered, searching Ceirw for the answer.

"I was hoping you could tell me." Ceirw answered back, honestly.

"If that is the true reason the gods are locked away, I must have had a good reason." Solas offered still not entirely convinced that that version of events was the true one. "Still. I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me that. If that is the case and fate puts that option before me, I will do it again."

"Thank you." Ceirw was growing to appreciate this new-found side of Solas' personality. "I feel like I've changed so much that to change something so huge, would destroy the world as I know it." Solas nodded back to her. It was plain on his face he took this matter seriously. It was no game or trick to play like everything else he did. This was important, this was the world as they knew it. If Solas allowed the gods to remain un-free in the future, there would be no dalish and therefore no Ceirw and then who would come back in time and tell him about the future, for him to have the knowledge to prevent it. It would only lead to a massive tear in the veil, consuming life in chaos. If there was one thing Ceirw would be certain of, it's that Solas would not risk everything if it came to it.

"I do have one more question." Solas said, staring intently at Ceirw with his stormy eyes. "If the gods are locked away and you are not a slave, why did you wear the markings?"

Ceirw's heart sank. How did she begin to explain the dalish? She would have to sit baring her embarrassment to Solas. Admit that the only elves trying to preserve their culture had gotten it all wrong. She would have to admit to wilfully sitting and 'becoming a woman', taking in the pain that came with receiving vallaslin willingly. Ceirw blushed to the tip of her ears as she stared woefully back to Solas. His eyes fixated on her silently as she thought out her answer.

"I'm dalish. They're a clan of elves who still honour the elvhen gods and old ways. We travel the wilderness keeping away from the city elves and humans. We tried to preserve our culture but we got it...a lot of it wrong." Ceirw admitted looking sheepish under The Dread Wolf's gaze. "We thought this was how you honoured the gods. We're the 'free people' and we wear them proudly."

Solas' lips twitched into a small smirk, unable to conceal his amusement at how wrong her clan and her people had got things. Ceirw buried her face in her hands and let out a groan. It was hard enough realising the dalish had fucked up, but admitting it to Solas was harder still.

"Come with me." Solas said standing up, leaving Ceirw no room to protest.

"Why?" Ceirw asked standing up after the other elf.

"I want to show you something worth being proud of."

 

* * *

 

 

Solas lead Ceirw out into the world of mirrors and then took her to the waking world. She followed him along wood ways and beautiful paths created by the many footprints of those who had walked these roads before them. The sky was navy and violet in the hues of twilight, it would be dark soon. Fortunately Solas light the path with the eerie green light of his foci and staff as they walked.

During their travel Ceirw prodded Solas for an answer to his mystery location, but he would not yield it. His cryptic words had lead much to be desired. What she did not expect to see when they stopped to the edge of the path, was what seemed to be a festival. The pathway lead to a stone opening, at the other side of which was two large stag statues. The big stone harts were a gate to an small open field next to a lake. Where a stunning waterfall spilled fresh water.

Ceirw could feel how sensitive the veil was in the air. Magic tingled across her skin and it was glorious. These grounds seemed to be the site of a festival. She did not know why Solas took her to a festival, but apparently she would be proud of it.

The sky grew darker and the grounds were a glow with fireflies and the torches of elvhen, and their stalls. Ceirw and Solas walked past the dozens of elves, past pie and cake stalls and even jewellery stalls. All of the stands seemed to be make shift, only set up there out of convenience and easily pulled down when not. Ceirw found it similar to festivals back home. Only there appeared to be less drunken elders here. For the moment. Solas languidly came to a stop and fell back casually against a tree. Watching Ceirw as she in turn watched her surroundings. Away from the waterline, minstrels played a jaunty tune and the peasantry danced together laughing. When Ceirw turned back to look questioningly at Solas, he was watching her. His hand raised to his face as a firefly crawled over his knuckles.

"What is this?" Ceirw asked with a small but interested smile. The event certainly looked fun, but she wasn't sure what it had to do with anything.

"It's a party." Solas replied non-chalant, shooing the firefly away from his hand.

"Yes, I got that, but what does it have to do with anything?"

Solas stepped closer to Ceirw and gently cupped her face with one hand, his slender fingers pressed against her lower cheeks and twisted her head to look back towards the dancing elves. "Tell me, how many marked slaves do you see?" Solas asked, nodding to where he made Ceirw look.

Ceirw did not pull from Solas' hold as he gently guided her to look at the people. She also did not mention how nice his warm hands felt against her tingling skin in the cool night's air. She took his question in to consideration as she searched the crowd but to her surprise she found not one elf with vallaslin. "None."

"And how many nobles?"

Again she scanned the crowd with her amber eyes. All the people seemed peasants. None wore elaborate clothing or anything of wealth. "...None." Ceirw replied hesitantly and turned in Solas' hold to look at the man's face, so close to her own. "What does that mean?" Ceirw asked not being able to put the pieces in to place. She could not understand what Solas was trying to tell her.

"It means, this is what 'The People' truly are. They're not nobles or gods or slaves. They are people and you should remember that." Solas slowly released Ceirw's face and took a step back from her. "I am not sure it will bring you pride, but at least you can experience what being elvhen truly is and not wear marks to pretend you are."

Ceirw broke into a wide smile. It was a small thing, to show her a festival where ordinary, everyday people broke free from the world. Yet, despite it's simplicity it made her happy to know that not everything was black and white. Some beautiful simple things remained in between.

"I thought you didn't like the people?" Ceirw teased Solas, taking in the sight of a couple breaking off from the 'dance area' to get mulled wine. They looked so happy and carefree, it almost warmed Ceirw to watch it. Behind the mulled wine stall was the crystal lake, reflecting the stars in the darkness of it's black depths. On the lake were a few small wooden boats where couples sat in privacy, surrounded by fireflies.

"They amuse me and I appreciate their parties, that doesn't mean I approve of their actions." Solas replied in his defence. "Now be quiet. I didn't bring you here to question me, go have fun and whatever else you mortals experience from these things." Solas inclined his head to the stalls and dancing.

"Well I can't dance on my own." Ceirw snorted, extending a hand to Solas, who in turn raised both his eyebrows at her. His face pulled into a look of bafflement.

"What? Reall-- You can't be serious. I dance at formal affairs... I would not even know where to begin with this common mortal jumping and froli--" Solas' words cut off as Ceirw yanked at his arm, pulling them both in the direction of the music and dancing elves. She grinned at the knowledge he could easily over-power her and yet moved anyway. Part of him clearly wanted an excuse to have fun and she was going to provide.

"Just follow my lead." Ceirw laughed out to Solas, taking both the man's warm palms in her own. To the beat of the bouncy music, Ceirw hopped lifting Solas with her and in no time at all, he caught the rhythm. The elves around them danced and clapped and stamped to the beat of drums and the melody of a flutes. Several times, Ceirw and Solas had to raise their conjoined hands into an arch to allow other dancers to pass through beneath them. On more than on of those occasions Ceirw would turn, forcing Solas to as well, twirling them both inadvertently.

Ceirw wasn't sure when it happened, but at some point during the carefree dance Solas' face had mirrored her grin and he seemed to be genuinely amused and enjoying himself. When the music came to an end, Ceirw released Solas' hands and stepped back laughing and trying to catch her breath in chokes of air. Solas mirrored her actions only he broke in to louder barks of laughter. Even as Ceirw's laughter ceased, Solas' did not.

"What, what is it?" Ceirw asked breathless, finding it hard to fight the smile from her face.

"Oh. Nothing." Solas replied shaking his head and breaking off his cackles. "It's just you must look so ridiculous, if not a little spirited."

Ceirw took the words in with a furrowed brow, not quite understanding what Solas meant at first. Then, as she look around at some of the looks she got, her face turned a shade of crimson.

"Don't you dare tell me, you're doing that invisible thing right now." Ceirw was almost thankful that the cool night had reddened her ears, disguising her embarrassment. In reply to her accusation Solas flashed her a wolfish grin, confirming her fears. To her she was dancing with Solas, but to everyone else she was a lone elf jumping around the dance floor.

"I could kill you!" Ceirw whispered in a harsh voice, though she was more embarrassed than angry. Even slightly amused at the whole thing. As another song played, she turned from the dancing ground and walked towards the wine stall she caught sight of earlier. After all that jumping around and embarrassment she could use a drink.

 

Solas joined Ceirw at the stall giving out the mulled wine freely. She was thankful she did not need to ask Solas for coin. Despite knowing the man must have had more than he needed, it didn't sit right with her taking it from him. She was no longer his prisoner or charity, she was his friend and friends were equal. She was also thankful that she could avoid talking to him and therefore 'herself' in front of people. At first Ceirw wrapped her hands around one cup, but a subtle nudge from Solas made her reach for two. The elf who stood at the counter smiled when he noticed her picking up a second cup. He must have thought she was here with a lover, and Ceirw almost corrected him, but decided against it.

Side by side, they sauntered amongst the fireflies and along the water's edge. Both of their hands warmed by the mulled wine they held. Ceirw paused at one stall in particular, just glancing. It was the jewellery stall. Unlike the jewellery of Ceirw's world this table held more organic designs. Rings of gold held stones of uncut and raw forms. The rubies that spiked from these were not polished or shaped. The head-dressed were mostly animals skulls, many adorned with drakestone or crystal. Everything was so obviously un-refined and beautiful.

That's when Ceirw's eyes fell upon a necklace. In the upper corner of the table sat a familiar jawbone necklace, made from what appeared to be a wolf's lower jaw. Ceirw's fingers grazed over the piece of adornment so carelessly. It was so peculiar to be standing before it and knowing this must be where Solas obtained it. Feeling eyes on her, Ceirw looked up to find that both Solas' and the stall woman watched her intently.

"I see that wolf's jaw caught your eye." The store owner said and from the corner of her Ceirw could see Solas smirking. Bastard.

"It's very beautiful." Ceirw informed with a soft smile to the kind stall-owner. A white haired woman who had a face as sweet as strawberries. "It reminds me very much of one my friend, Solas wears."

"It does?" Solas' voice begged curiously, and he moved to better look at the necklace. "It's not even very nicely done..."

"Your friend has good taste. It's said that to wear one, is to keep The Dread Wolf at bay. I see you bare his slave mark, I can see why you would be interested." The kind woman said, and in reply Solas made a finger gesture that Ceirw would never expect to see from him. She all but choked on her words and the store owner looked at her with concern.

"Oh?...I hadn't heard that, why would I want to keep him at bay?" Ceirw asked in a cough that played to the tune of Solas' laughter.

"He is a cruel god and friend to the dark ones." The woman informed Ceirw and from the corner of her eye, she watched Solas' grin twitch downward. "This is the festival of Mythal, we celebrate love and protection here, Mythal keeps us safe from the trickster who would poison our dreams and make us forget how to love." Ceirw felt an uneasiness as Solas stood straighter, his eye narrowing in the direction of the sales woman.

"If I've found anything..." Ceirw informed the woman, catching Solas' attention with her words also, "It's that people are not always as you expect and gods should be no different."

" _But I-_ -"

"You've heard stories all from one side. I bet you pray to the gods every night, but tell me, when was the last time you prayed for them. Can you honestly say you've asked them how they were or what they needed of you?"

"I. No, I can't say I have." The woman replied rather taken a back by Ceirw's pointed words.

"You might want to think on that. I do believe that's the love Mythal would ask of you. Now if you don't mind, I'll have that necklace." Solas said nothing as he slipped past Ceirw, secretly placing a gold coin in her hand, so she might pay for his wolf bone necklace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the festival of love and mythal was set at the place where Solas breaks up with Lavellan in game. It seemed like such a beautiful place to break up with someone, that it had to hold some sort of semblance for them. So I decided to make it their first 'mate' date location.


	13. Far Greater To Be Loved Than Feared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was difficult to write, but it's the lead up to 'that' chapter and so I couldn't not make it happen. As Always I looooove your fan theories and compliments and apologise in advance for the slow updates! Expect steammmy bits up next <3

The festival was a nice refreshing change of pace. Ceirw didn't need to hide or watch herself at the festival of Mythal. Here the person hiding was Solas. She could understand why he would not want to be seen by the people, but she could also see that he had little choice in the matter. They hated and feared him. Even if he wanted them to see him walk among them, it would be hostile.

All her life Ceirw prayed to gods and asked them for favours. Andruil guide the hunters arrows. Sylaise fuel my magic. Dread Wolf take you. Not once in all those years had she truly given them thought. Of course the dalish made offerings to the gods, but they did not worry for the gods. They were gods after all. It was just presumed that they were ambivalent creatures beyond reach, who took perfect care of themselves. It was not until Ceirw met Solas that she realised gods weren't just 'beings', they felt. They were like everyone else, albeit more egotistical and passionate.

Side by side, Ceirw and Solas sat on an arbour by the water's edge. After some goading, Ceirw had convinced Solas to wear the necklace, to her it seemed to fit him naturally; he on the other hand showed a great distaste for it. Ceirw couldn't help but laugh. Solas would wear a wolf skull upon his head, yet he drew the line at the jawbone necklace.

The minstrels music played softer as the night darkened. Ceirw watched the couples dancing in the moonlight with a small smile. Not everyone was a graceful doe on the dance-floor, but it was clear that the elves were lost in each others embrace. Mythal's magic truly did grace this ground. Ceirw pondered if that is why the veil felt so thin. Perhaps Mythal's magic weaved tenderly through this world and the beyond. It was a thought at least.

From where she sat on the arbour, Ceirw would steal glances of Solas. He was enthralled in the display of the people. Ceirw jumped to the assumption that he watched them often. Like a man watching the chapters of a book unfold before him. How fascinating he must find mortals. Ceirw could only compare Solas' expression as he watched the people to that of a mortal's when they watched birds or fish in a pond. Watching them unaccustomedly but still not being able to look away from their simple little actions. Even if he didn't understand them.

Despite knowing all the mistakes he'd made and knowing that he would make more, Ceirw could not deny she felt something for Solas. The warmth it brought her to just sit with him in comfortable silence was enough to let her know she was in trouble. She could not pin point when she fell for him, though part of her assumed it began back or in his case forwrd, in Haven. It did not help that she sat beside the man at a festival of love. Whenever her stolen looks lingered too long, she would remind herself that Andruil had made Solas promise not to look at her that way. With the added reminder that he admitted freely, he could not.

"Solas," Ceirw prompted, turning to the man. He sat adjacent to her, looking expectant as he rolled his empty wine cup between his hands. "I have a question about Andruil's ball."

"Yes?" Solas replied with a slight interest, no doubt wondering why she might bring any of that up.

"I saw all the gods there, but I did not see Ghilan'nain. Why wasn't she there?" Ceirw did not admit to over-hearing the meeting Solas and the other gods had at the party. She did not want to tell him that she heard Andruil threaten him and she heard their worry about the humans. Her question had clearly taken Solas by surprise.

"Simply put, it is because she is not a god." Solas answered, shifting in his seat.

"We revere her as Mother Of The Halla. She is one of the most respected Goddess' of our Pantheon." Ceirw scrunched her face in mirrored confusion to Solas. Apparently there was another mistake the dalish had made, they had gotten Ghilan'nain's history all wrong it seemed.

Solas' face did not do well in masking the mixture of expressions and thoughts this news brought him. He looked almost happy, but confused and annoyed at the time. Eventually his face settled on a sly grin. "Lucky her." Ceirw raised a brow at his words, prompting Solas to continue. "The story of Ghilan'nain is one of angst and serves as a warning. In a time lost to us Ghilan'nain was a mere mortal woman. Andruil was sane then. She had never showed anyone interest until Ghilan'nain. Ghilan'nain was a devout follower and lover of animals. She was beautiful, so beautiful that Andruil forbade her to mark her face with vallaslin. After centuries, Andruil's infatuation turned to love and the two became intimate."

Ceirw could not imagine an Andruil who could fall for a beautiful mortal woman. She found it hard to picture Andruil experiencing love at all, for that matter. "What happened?"

"The dark ones. They saw Andruil's weakness and their hunger for despair sought to hurt her. They warped the mind of a hunter in the woods Ghilan'nain lived in. He provoked Ghilan'nain and she had Andruil curse him. The hunter would not be able to kill another living thing." Solas turned his eyes away from Ceirw and looked out upon the water. She watched his navy eyes as they flickered over the water's surface, distracting himself by counting the stars it reflected. "Just because the hunter could not kill, did not mean he could not torture." Solas replied in a quieter voice.

Ceirw had heard the story of Ghilan'nain before, but never from someone who knew so much and knew the people involved personally. "He left her for dead." Ceirw concluded and Solas nodded. "But then Andruil saved her..."

"In a sense." Ceirw watched as Solas' lips dipped down into a frown. "With everything that happened between Falon'Din and myself, I had turned to the dark ones and from them, I turned to the solitude of my sphere, neither in the abyss or the waking world. Even there, I could hear Andruil's screams of sorrow. She wanted to kill Daern'thal, Anaris and the others for what they did, for the only way she could save her beloved was to bind her spirit to a non-mortal vessel. Andruil ventured into the void for vengeance and spiralled into madness. I lost a friend that day."

"That's...awful." Ceirw murmured, instinctively reaching out to and Solas turned to stare back at her, a brief look of sincerity and he was quickly masked back in non-chalance.

"Yes. Well. Mythal stole her memories of the void and formed a Well of Sorrows. Sadly, she could not also take Andruil's madness and she has been like she is, ever since. Ghilan'nain is merely a being who from time to time creates creatures."

"And Andruil no longer loves her?" Ceirw asked, curious as to why the two could not be together.

"Elgar'nan forbids it. It is a weakness that could be exploited in the war. Ghilan'nain was allowed to live in her magical form as she serves as a reminder that the war between the Pantheon and The Dark Ones is a dangerous one."

"And what side are you on?"

"My own."

 

* * *

 

Ceirw had given Solas' words a lot of thought. She felt a deep pity for Andruil. The woman was once kind and loving, and all that was snatched from her. Now the thing that was left was cruel and vicious. It became clearer why one might lock the gods away. To them this was a war and 'the people' were expendable casualties. She also lingered a thought to Solas words about Falon'Din. 'Between everything that happened' between them, he said. Ceirw wondered what that meant. Still; she had asked so much of Solas this night, to ask more was unfair.

She returned to their little spot at the edge of the clearing, holding two more cups of mulled wine. Solas waited on the arbour, only looking up when she returned.  
"Don't tell me you're going to get drunk." Solas teased reaching for a wine cup. "I refuse to chaperone you."

"It's my second glass, I'm hardly throwing up on your floors." Ceirw snorted back sitting down once more. If anything, she was taking more comfort in the warmth of the wine cup than it's actual contents. "Besides, I'm an adult. I can do what I like."

"Like attract other drunken adults?" Solas replied, inclining his head to where Ceirw had come from. At first she was confused, but right enough a man was heading their way and looking directly at her. The elf who approached them slowed as he came nearer. His green eyes narrowed into slits as he looked upon Ceirw's face.

"Your sort aren't welcome 'ere." The man called to her drunkenly.

"I'm sorry, what?" Ceirw choked back in a startled and nervous laugh. Instinctively, she stood to match the man's height. Part of her felt less threatened facing him so head on.

"You heard. There aren't nobles around these parts, so yer no slave." He accused, stepping forward and prodding her shoulder roughly enough that Ceirw had to take a step backward. "If that wasn't proof enough, you're wearing priestess robes. You're a devout to Fen'Harel. This is a place o' love and happiness. We don't need your kind poisoning it."

Ceirw's first thought was why this man so openly cursed her and Solas with Solas sitting so close by, but then of course she remembered Solas' invisibility. Still that did not prevent the faint growl she heard from behind her.

"I don't want any trouble, I'm just trying to enjoy the festivities." Ceirw replied in a forced and diplomatic tone. She felt the lingering of looks on her and she really didn't want to cause a scene.

"You're a lying, tainted, bitch! I bet you're praying for misery here!" Ceirw did not get a chance to respond to the man's obscene accusation. He had stepped forward so suddenly that she could not catch herself falling to the ground. In her fall, Ceirw turned. Out of instinct she pressed her hands out to break her fall but this was a mistake. The mulled wine cup cracked in her palm as she slammed to the ground, burning her fingers and splashing hot wine onto her robes. That added onto the jolts of pain that shot up her body at the impact of the fall, it was no surprise that she let out a cry of both pain and fright at the sudden attack.

Everything happened so fast that Ceirw lost sight of it all. She groaned as pain spread through her aching hand, which she could feel warm wetness trickling down from and onto her wrist. A shard of ceramic from the cup no doubt. Over all the fall had not done much damage and Ceirw twisted on the ground, ready in case another strike came. What she saw instead was her attacker fly a foot backward from her with a bolt of green lightening.

The music had stopped and all eyes were intently watching the scene. Only they were not watching Ceirw and her attacker. They were staring at Solas. Solas who was seething, storming to the man he had flung backward. Solas whose eyes glowed and eerie shade of red. Solas who was snarling as he sunk to his knees, only to roughly grab the scared, shocked attacker by his throat and pick him up like a rag-doll.

Many of the on-lookers screamed and Ceirw could hear amongst them the loud prayers for Mythal to protect them. Some of the crowd shouted out insults. Demanding that Elgar'nan strike Solas down for his evil actions.

"You would dare harm those under my protection!" Solas growled into the face of her attacker. The man's face that was turning beet red as he gasped for air. "You would dare insult me without fear!"

"Solas, stop!" Ceirw called out as she watched the man spluttering in his grasp. He had not attempted to kill her and to allow Solas to kill him was unfair. She got to her feet and scrambled to Solas' side, pressing her bloodied hand to his shoulder and looking at his face pleadingly. "He's not worth it."

"He's insulted me beyond forgiveness. He can be sure to tell Falon'Din I say 'hello'." Solas muttered back to Ceirw, not breaking his gaze from the dying man in his hand. The man's face was so full of fear as he strangled his last breaths. All around them faces mirrored the dying man's fear. Many of the couples had run, but others could not look away.

"Solas, please. I'm begging you." Ceirw asked once more, pulling on Solas' shoulder. "You're better than this!"

Ceirw thought her words were ignored as Solas still held in the man in his coiled grip. However, they had managed to get through as only seconds later did Solas let her attacker slip from his hold and fall ungracefully to the ground. Solas stood tall as the elf at his feet wheezed and edged back in fear. Those left at the festival grounds watched on for Solas' next move. The fear and tension was sharp in the air and even Ceirw felt nervous.

"Do you know your way back to the sphere?" Solas asked in a forced whisper to Ceirw and she nodded in reply.

"Good. I will meet you back there. If there is trouble, just call on me." With that said, Solas vanished before her eyes too. She wasn't sure if he was still there or if he had used some other means of magic, either way she did not want to linger with the eyes of the elves and their hate burning into her.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Ceirw got back to Solas' mirror, she was not as angry as she thought she might have been. He had left her alone or at least he was out of sight and a selfish part of her hated him for it. She could not disappear when the world got too hard, so why should he? Well of course, unlike her, he had to face this sort of hatred everyday. The dalish were hated by many, but at least she could take comfort in her clan and kin. Solas had openly admitted that he secluded himself from the gods and with all the politics among them, it was hard for her to believe any of them truly counted him as a friend.

The anchor in Ceirw's hand worked to unlock Solas' eluvian and she proceeded to go inside. There was a comfort that came with being inside this onyx dwelling she once feared. It's hard stone wall served as protection where she once saw a prison. Her quiet foot-falls were drowned out by the sound of smashing from up ahead. In the main rotunda, Ceirw sourced the noise to Solas' 'study' room. The door was left cracked open and where it was usually dark, light spilled out. Hesitantly, Ceirw pressed the door open fully, drinking in the scene before her.

The room was light up by torches of veil-fire along the walls. Ceirw had thought the decoration of this room was ghastly before, but only in full light did it sink in. The bleach white walls were maddening with scars of red paint slashing down them. It looked like something out of a shemlen horror book. Artefacts and objects she had not seen well in her first visit were scattered across the room. Many looked broken and others looked twisted and poisoned. Of all the rooms in Solas' home, this was the one she liked the least. It was a room the cried of pain and anger. Filled to the brim with objects of darkness piled upon each other. Tables littered with papers and distorted statutes. It was no wonder that Solas often kept this room dark. Ceirw wondered how he brought himself to sit in it at all.

The man in question was on his knees in the middle of the room. His back was facing Ceirw and he heaved breathes. Around him shards of stone and crystal lay scattered. Obviously broken in a rage. As she slowly stepped into the room and towards Solas, she noted amongst said shards and remains was his 'diary' and notes, as well as a smashed ink bottle. She concluded he must have 'cleared' his desk in a angry swoop, bringing all the objects on it crashing to the ground.

"Are you alright?" Ceirw asked in a soothing voice, gently approaching Solas, though she was sure, he had heard her come in. He did not look up as she passed him and carefully knelt down in front of him.

"I have brought those mortals art, dreams, and protected them from Falon'Din and despite all that, they will only ever see the bad in me. A trickster. Kin to the dark ones. A monster." Ceirw reached out to cup Solas' face with a gentle palm and his stormy eyes looked up into her own.

"I thought you didn't care what they thought?" Ceirw said lightly, the look on Solas' face was so unexpected and painful to see.

"I don't care for them, for they don't care for me." Solas spat out solemnly, turning his eyes back from Ceirw and pulling his head from her palm. Leaving her to let it fall down into her lap. "The mortals are pathetic creatures easily twisted and manipulated into believing everything is black or white. They are too stupid to understand that some things are grey. I have not interfered in their lives for centuries. I have not begged temples of them or slaves, or even priests, but the tricks I played in my youth. Tricks I played to teach them lessons, they will forever bring me hatred."

"Solas, that's not true..."

"You saw them." He retorted with another heaving breath. "I'll always be The Dread Wolf in their eyes."

Ceirw looked at the man before her. A cock-sure god who hid behind the façade of sarcasm and solitude. He had made mistakes and it appeared that the world would focus on nothing else. A feeling she could relate to. Since being dubbed the Herald, everyone looked to her like she was a chosen sent from the heavens. They could see only what they wanted to see. If she did something good she would be the blessed herald, but she was sure if she made a wrong the whole of Thedas would remember her as a evil tyrant.

She could not bear to look at Solas any longer. It wretched at her heart-strings to see someone so strong and powerful so broken. Her eyes flitted around the room, observing the madness and mess once more.

Then she saw it.

Plain as day on one of the tables was a solid gold arrow. It sat shimmering in the light of the veil-fire and sparked an idea in Ceirw. It was a silly idea, but it was better than nothing. She stood up from Solas, gaining his attention as she walked over to the arrow. She wrapped her fingers around it's stem and turned to Solas, holding the procured arrow.

"It's Andruil's, yes?"

Solas looked confused but nodded.

"Perfect." Ceirw said with a kind smile, walking back over to Solas, whose confusion only seemed to build. Tenderly Ceirw placed a hand on top of Solas' locks, looking down at him with affection. He was hurting and she wanted to help him in anyway she could. Despite how subtle it was, in the past at Andruil's party, he had comforted her. He had held her in his arms whilst she grieved and now she would return the favour. "You told me Andruil's arrow always leaves a permanent mark. The Solas I know is wise and kind and loves the people and I think you do too, even if you like to hide it."

"What does that matter?"

"Perhaps the first step in ridding yourself of The Dread Wolf is ridding yourself of his dreaded coat?" Though her eyes were soft with seriousness, Ceirw offered him a small and cheeky grin and Solas took her words in to consideration. They were heavy with meaning and symbolism. It was not merely his hair she was cutting, she was shedding him of that part of his life. Moving him on to be something more than just a trickster that the elves feared. Solas dipped his head back to the ground and nodded.

"Do it."


	14. She Broke Your Throne, She Cut Your Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter of smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is a 'smut scene' *insert barry white music*
> 
> So really, if you're not comfortable reading this kind of thing just skim it over and read the notes at the bottom of the chapter or if you're too young, please stop reading all together, Dragon Age is 18+ game anyhow. 
> 
> On a lighter note, thank you for all the lovely comments and I hope you enjoy this chapter, it was very fun to write.

Thick locks of hair hitting the floor was the only noise that passed between them in that moment. Ceirw slowly scraped the golden-glimmering blade of the arrowhead across the root of each individual strand. Her delicate finger tips would graze over Solas' skull comfortingly as she untangled the mess of hair and cut it away. When only little tufts of hairs lay left, she carefully shaved his crown, till only freckled skin remained. 

Ceirw pulled the golden arrow and it's blade away. There was an intimacy to the moment that she could not explain. From behind Solas; Ceirw leaned forward and blew gently over his head to remove any irritable, cut hairs that lingered. The only noise that broke their speechless lull, was the sharp breath that hitched in Solas' throat as Ceirw blew warm breath over his ears. 

Demurely, Ceirw moved backwards and cleared her throat, shattering the calm entirely. "All done." She murmured with a smile and fell back into a crouch beside Solas, on the floor. It took a moment, but Ceirw watched as his back straightened and he reached out with curious fingers to brush over his newly shaven head. For her it was not so strange. This was the Solas she had always known. His hair was beautiful, a fact she could not deny, but what was more attractive than that, was the knowledge that the elf she flirted with in Haven was in there and now he was one step closer to being that man. Despite being the one to cut the hair, it was Solas' choice and his decision to turn over a new leaf. 

Solas turned on the marble floor to look back at Ceirw. His face was a concoction of emotions. Excitement, anxiousness, relief and something she could not quite pin point. He opened his mouth to comment or say thanks and to her dismay Ceirw blushed, staring at his lips. It was ridiculous what a small simple act could do, but cutting Solas' hair had changed the tension in the room. At least for Ceirw. She felt intimacy with the man, she hadn't felt before. The realisation that she might be sitting like a fool, lusting after Solas after he had been so vulnerable was the only thing that made her draw her eyes away from his parted lips. Nervously, her hand reached to comb up through her hair and she flinched. Whilst the mulled wine incident had been about an hour ago, her slightly blistered hand still ached with little aftershocks. 

"You're hurt." Solas observed, matter of factly. Whatever words he had meant to speak, lost forever. Ceirw pulled her hand back from her hair and showed it palm up to Solas. From the base of her thumb to fore-finger across her palm, a gash was dried up with crusted maroon blood. On top of that, her fingers were red and blistered all bar the tips. Fortunately, cutting Solas' hair was not so painful as it was her other hand she used to grip the arrow and her fingertips were still un-blistered. Now that she had focused on the numbed pain, it was hard to forget. 

"It's nothing, the mug broke when I fell." Ceirw assured, but despite her words, Solas reached for her wrist. Pulling her recoiling hand out towards him, Solas' dark blue eyes scanned her wound. Cupping her hand in one of his own, with Ceirw's palm facing up, he returned her tender gesture by tracing his fingers over the scabbing, slash. All the while releasing a healing magic. Mana warmed through Ceirw's fingers and spread through her flesh, and in what seemed seconds her throbbing pain was replaced with a slight tingle.

"You didn't have to do that." Ceirw said, her healed hand still sitting in Solas' grasp. She did not mean to seem so independent around him, or come off as ungrateful, but the truth of the matter was she could have handled the pain. He didn't owe her anything. 

"I know." Came Solas' reply with a small smirk. His eyes lingered over both their hands and then flashed up to Ceirw mischievously. 

Her eyes locked with his and they must have looked at each other for longer than was appropriate. A heat creeped up the back of Ceirw's neck tingeing her cheeks and she had too pull back from Solas entirely. With her hand freely back in her own lap, Ceirw stood up and looked back to the table Solas had cleared in his frustration. In her own sexual frustration, she would re-assemble it. Cleaning would keep her mind busy and stop her lusting after her friend. She would have to get a hold of herself. Solas wanted a friend to rely on and he didn't need her throwing herself at him. 

"We should clean this place up." She muttered mostly to herself, reaching to pick up some items from the floor. A book here, a page there. When her hands felt full, she busied herself at the table. She could hear Solas moving behind her and felt the tension leave her body. There was nothing sexual about tidying, that she was sure of.

Ceirw had neatly placed a stack of papers in a pile on the desk's surface, when she felt Solas behind her. At first she thought there was an explanation for his presence, but as she felt his firm hands grip her hips, all thought of reasonable things slipped Ceirw's mind. His assertiveness drew a gasp from Ceirw and Solas only pressed her further to the desk, as if spurred on by her sound. Despite the robes between them both, Ceirw could feel the muscles of Solas' torso. Pressing his chest flush against her back, he slid one hand to her lower back to bend Ceirw over the table. 

Ceirw was like butter in his hands as he touched her. Despite how often they spoke and how much time they had spent together, Solas barely touched her. Now, here he was. Urging her against a table with his hands kneading her through her clothes. Her mind tried to process what was happening. Solas was going to take her against the desk. She longed for that. To have him want her. To have him bruising her hips. She wanted to obey his domination and bend over on the table right there and be took, but she couldn't. Not their first time. They hadn't even kissed and to have rough sex after the recent events they shared would be them both taking advantage of the others vulnerability. 

In her trail of thought, Solas' hand's moved to lift up the skirt of her robes. As the cool air hit her shins, he pressed his bulge to her rear. As good as it felt, she was eager for them to be in a different position. 

"Wait, Solas stop." Ceirw called to the man in a breathy voice that surprised her. The way he affected her capability to speak was shameful. All it took was some close body grinding and he had her in a puddle of goo. At her words Solas immediately let the robes fall back down and paused where he stood. Ceirw took a second to catch her breath. Solas' complete unabashed approach had taken her so much by surprise she wasn't sure how to deal with it. Unfortunately she didn't get a chance to plan her approach because her words had gone too long unexplained and Solas pulled away from her. 

"I am sorry. I thought this is what you wanted." Solas said in a matter of fact tone. If not for the exposure of his recent vulnerability and the slight edge to his tone, Ceirw might have believed he truly didn't care. She had not meant to reject him and she still did not. When she turned to explain and offer a soft smile, she was taken aback to see him striding out the door. That was not what she wanted at all. She hoped it wasn't too late to reassure him of what she meant.

Following Solas out the room, she walked back into his rotunda to find him proudly sitting on his frosted throne. He looked non-pulsed at the sight of her, and she almost wanted to smack him for his dismissal. She might have too, if not for how embarrassed he must have felt. 

"Solas." Ceirw breathed with a smile on her lips and blush on her cheeks. His eyes flickered to her, sparing her a glance at the call of his name. "I appreciate you stopping, but I do want you. I just didn't want you like that." Her words seemed to take him off guard and she took that opportunity to approach his throne. With her golden eyes locked on to his stormy blues, she placed a knee on either side of Solas. Straddling his lap in the throne. Instinctively his hands came up to cup behind Ceirw and she looped her own around his neck. "If it's okay with you and it's what you want, could we try again?" 

A soft nod was Solas answer and they both pushed forward. Meeting in the middle as their lips crashed. Ceirw smiled into the kiss as Solas took her lips fully in his own. He kissed her softly at first, with a growing hunger. It was their first kiss and it was everything Ceirw expected it to be and more. His lips parted and his tongue begged entrance. As the kiss deepened, she all but melted into the kiss, tasting the lingering mulled wine from earlier. 

Once more Solas' hands found Ceirw's hips; this time holding her in a softer embrace. The kiss deepened, only to break when the lack of air made Ceirw feel dizzy. Heat billowed through her and she wanted more of Solas than she could ever have. Reluctantly she pulled back from him, careful so as to not break any of the cracked throne, that looked so fragile to touch. 

Solas searched her face as she pulled from him once more, standing up from him and the throne. His eyes were dark pools of hooded lust as he fixed her with a wanton look. In turn she watched him through her lashes. Delicate fingers untied the top of her robes and Solas watched every fastening with sharp eyes. When Ceirw had finished, she grabbed the hem of her robes and slowly pulled all the garments up and over her head. She stood for a moment in the modesty of her under things and binding, but her need for Solas was too much and they had to go. Quick hands unwrapped her binding, letting it fall to the floor and she gazed at Solas longingly, as his hungry eyes raked over her naked form. Bare him to him, Solas ravaged her with a look and a growl escaped his mouth. 

Ceirw made to take her previous position straddling Solas, and he took the initiative to pull her forward into his hold. In seconds his warm lips were back on hers. Feathering kisses over her lips, jaw, and the down to her throat. Solas suckled a tender place between Ceirw's neck and collar and his hands moved between her legs. A sigh caught in Ceirw's throat as skilful fingers stroked over her lower lips. He teased her, rubbing her nerves in a slow and steady rhythm, achieving a moan from Ceirw. As heat pooled between her thighs, Solas' lips fell to her chest. Nibbling, biting, suckling, and tasting all of her skin and as he eclipsed his lips around one her of her nipples, he pressed two fingers into her entrance. 

It did not take long for Ceirw to come undone by his movements. She shuddered against Solas, cupping his face as his tongue worshipped her breast. When her thoughts became clearer, Ceirw pulled Solas' lips to her own for a breathy kiss. His hands moved from her and Ceirw blushed at the feel of her pleasure dripping down her thighs between them. Ceirw reached down between them, opening up Solas' robes. His erection hardly concealed in his breeches. With fumbling fingers, she untied the fastenings and released Solas' member, earning a groan of need from the man. Her soft hand stroked up and down the shaft as she brought him to her entrance. Ceirw eased down on to Solas and in their shared kissed they both sighed. 

Ceirw expected it to escalate into a moment of crazed passion in seconds, but to her surprise Solas' face turned in her hands and pressed a gentle kiss to her palm. She looked to where he kissed, gently pressing his lips to where her burns and cut had been not so long ago. His eyes intently fixed on her own and only then did they move against each other. In the silence of their rotunda they moved against each other on the iced and delicate throne. Adoring kisses accompanying each thrust. 

Ceirw arched her neck back, and released a final moan as she hit her climax. Her hands tightened on the throne's back, crumbling the weakened marble in her palms and sending onyx crystals to the floor, hitting the marble there like rain. As parts of Solas' previously damaged throne broke, they went unnoticed as Ceirw's eye were tightly shut and Solas was busy lavishing kisses over her exposed and bare neck. He was not so far behind her, her climax pushing him to edge as she tightened around him and he tasted the vibrations of her moans as his teeth grazed over her throat. Solas arced his back and with several more thrusts spilled his seed inside of Ceirw. In that passing moment she drew her name from his lips and she was all but un-done again. Hearing him gasping her name so wantonly. It was the first time she had heard him say it, at least since she had gotten here. Little Faun, he called her. Not now. There in his arms as he caressed her, he lovingly whispered her name and she knew there was no going back. She loved him more than she could ever say, there would never be words strong enough.

Both elves collapsed against each other. Catching their breath and sitting contently in each others arms. Ceirw smiled into the crook of Solas' neck as his hands slid comfortingly up and down her back, brushing her goose bumped skin with his rough thumb pads. It was a nice feeling. Safe. She had never felt so safe in all her life, as she did held in Solas' arms in that instance. She returned the gesture, idly stroking her fingertips over his chest. 

"I love you, Fen'Harel." Ceirw whispered gently just beneath Solas' ear. He had spoke her name so beautifully and if only for this one time, in this tender moment, she would speak his. 

For the what felt like the longest time, Ceirw listened only to the sound of Solas' breathing and steady heartbeat beneath her. There was a moment she thought he might have fallen asleep, but eventually he murmured his reply to Ceirw and despite how tender his voice seemed. The words made her heart catch in her throat. 

His response to her confession of love was quite simply, "Thank you, Aur'Ceirw."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those that didn't want to read the sex scene, in short.  
> Solas and Ceirw make love on his throne and when the moment is over, Ceirw confesses her love to Solas, only to have him not return the words. 
> 
> For those who really wanted some DOM!Solas, I get that kink, but to quote Solas 'I have yet to see it dominated' and I think it's only fair those words remain canon.


	15. Not Good, Not Bad, You're Just Nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are ridiculously wonderful. Your comments are so sweet and I wish I could write more for you and quicker! <3

What could she reply to his words. 'You're welcome?' She was foolish for thinking this might have been more than them both 'seeking comfort'. In the silent embrace of Solas' arms, Ceirw thought of how to deal with the situation. She could not be angry at him for not returning her love, despite how much it hurt. Nor could she toss away a connection like the one they had built over something like this. Their relationship was a complicated one, but underneath all the unknowns, the fact remained that she cared for him deeply. For him it might have seemed too soon. She had known Solas longer than he had known her. They had been acquainted at Haven for at least a month. In the end, she decided the best course of action was to keep the comfortable silence. She shut her eyes in the warmth of Solas' embrace, letting all anxiety leave her mind and then listening to sound of Solas' heartbeat, she fell asleep.

When Ceirw awoke, she was in the comfort of her bed. Rolling over in the dark chamber, it took her only moments to realise she was alone. She sat up in the bed recalling the previous nights events. At some point Solas must have carried her to bed, her heart panged at the thought. Did he find carrying her to bed sweet or bothersome? That was the final straw. She would not lay in bed thinking about his feelings for her. She was in a wrong time and there were people here who wanted her dead. Redcliffe needed her. She certainly couldn't sit in darkness and worry about her companion's affections and intentions.

Ceirw got out of the bed and went to the wash basin, cleaning herself fully before getting changed into fresh robes. It would have been better to have a bath and look in a mirror, but seeing as getting to the bath chamber meant passing Solas, she would just wash down for now. When time came to leave the room, she found herself hesitant. Being strong and focused was all well and fine mentally but to physically be able to pretend she had not opened up to him would be harder than just saying it. Of course, she had to remember he opened up to her too. Briefly she gazed up at the painted stars on the chamber's ceiling. The grandeur of the beautiful paintings were a reminder that things were different in the future. Even if Solas loved her back now, he would surly not love her thousands of years from now. The Solas in Haven did not paint his hut's walls or ceiling. He would change in all those years and she would not and he would no doubt forget about her. Perhaps that was for the best.

Chin held high she stepped out of the room and down it's slight corridor, until she came to the marble archway that lead to Solas' rotunda. To her surprise and somewhat disappointment, Solas wasn't sat on his throne, a throne that she noted had been cleaned and re-built. Good as new. Despite him always lurking in his rotunda, she could not see him anywhere. With all the curiosity of a cat, she tried the doors to the other rooms. Her initial thought that he may be cleaning his study proved wrong. It lay dark and empty. He was also absent from the bathroom and 'cave opening'. There were only two doors left when she had checked all the previous areas. She had always suspected one them was Solas' bedroom, but never had the gall to check after the study incident. Now however seemed like an appropriate time. She was not being intrusive, simply curious as to where he had disappeared to. The first door of the two, she tried was locked. Not a good start. The second door, opened up to reveal a pantry of food. Well that made sense, Solas' body still needed sustenance and he had provided her with food in previous days. Amongst all the food that loitered shelves and sacks of grains, Solas was still no where to be found.

He had left her alone. Ceirw presumed the reality was Solas had business to attend to. He could not be at his home all the time. Still, this left Ceirw with no one to talk to and nothing to do. With a huff of boredom, she sat herself down on Solas' throne. With him not being there it stood to reason she could sit on it. After all, he made no complaint last night. She decided that last night was nice. She was not prepared to let an exchanging of words ruin a wonderful moment, stolen in a soon to be forgotten past.

Thirty minutes later and with no sign of Solas, Ceirw was having trouble sitting at peace. She sprawled across the throne like a cat, stretching out from discomfort. How Solas sat there so long was astounding to her. Her eyes flicked to where she knew lead to the eluvian. Surly Solas would not be mad at her for going out? She was no longer kept as a prisoner and he had left her to walk back from Mythal's festival alone. She wasn't his property, he had said they were friends. She decided that she did not need his permission. With a visit to his study, she took some parchment and ink, noting down her absence so Solas would not worry.

> _Solas,_
> 
>   
> _I've gone to catch some air, I'll be careful._  
>  _\- Ceirw._

It was short and to the point. Hopefully he would not worry too much. She sat the folded note on the seat of his throne and made her way to the eluvian. In practised peculiarity, Ceirw stepped through the mirror and out the other side. There was so many places to go, she didn't know where to start. What would be safe and what wouldn't be?

In the end, Ceirw chose to go through the mirror that lead to the market place. The one she and Solas had visited the day he brought her robes. The first time she saw his vallaslin on her face in a passing mirror. Oh what she wouldn't give to see a mirror now. Her lips were probably swollen from kissing. The thought made said lips twitch up in a smile. Perhaps when Solas returned her to her own time she could get another visit of those lips. After he explained what had happened of course.

Despite being outside, Ceirw found it almost as lonely as being inside. She had no friends here. At least back at Haven she had Varric and Cassandra. Varric would be teasing her right now. Making jokes about her putting a smile on 'chuckles' face. She didn't doubt it for a second. Cassandra and her would be talking about fighting techniques and the breach and Ceirw would be the one making the jokes...and Dorian would be there, talking about himself. She hadn't known Dorian long, but in the short time they'd met she grown very fond him. He had a wonderful sense of humour. She could also appreciate his sarcasm and the fact they both shared a hairstyle, albeit hers was blonde. Thoughtfully as she walked through the olde market-way, Ceirw tousled her hair. The shaven sides were becoming a bit longer than she'd like. How did she explain vanishing from Redcliffe and then re-appearing with longer hair and different vallaslin? She'd make Solas explain, the sight of Sera's face would be enough to make it worth it.

Still, Sera and the others were so far away from her now and even if Solas was available, his company was all she was used to. It was passing a stave stall that made her realise, she did have another friend here. The appearance of a dead-tree like stave reminded her of Falon'Din. He had been so very kind to her at the ball. His company would be better than waltzing alone. She had to question if he would appear. If she found somewhere private and prayed to him would that bring him to her? It was worth a try. If he was busy and did not want to talk, then he would simply ignore her. If he was not, he would come to see her and they could converse for a while before she returned back to the sphere. She took note that Solas distrusted Falon'Din, but for whatever reason they had cause to argue, she did not. Falon had helped Ceirw with Sior and been kind to her. She felt at ease in his presence and just because those two couldn't play nice, didn't mean she couldn't.

Ceirw stole off into an alley way. It was obscured from the main market place but had enough room to conceal two people. It twisted down between two beautifully carved stone walls, each of which had a red-ish vine climbing up them. Part of her was praying they weren't allergic or rash-inducing. The blonde elf shut her eyes and then made her strange request.

"Falon'Din. Friend Of The Dead and Guide. It is Aur'Ceirw from the ball. I'm not sure if you remember. If you do, and if you're not busy I would like to talk...we could um, chat and discuss...things." Well that wasn't as smooth as she had hoped but it got her point across. She opened her eyes and too her surprise not a step away from her stood the ghostly figure of the man she spoke out to. It had worked far quicker than she imagined. "Oh good, so you're not busy." She chuckled out to mask her shock.

"Imagine my surprise. I was sifting through the endless chatter of 'save this animal' and 'guide this person' when amongst those prayers I heard an unusual request." Falon'Din commented with a polite smile and glint in his eye. He looked over Ceirw in the most curious manner, that she could not help but shift uncomfortably. "And here, the reality is far more interesting than I could imagine."

"Forgive me, I assumed if you were busy, you would not come. I did after all mention that you should only attend if you were free." Ceirw replied keeping her eyes on the ever pacing Falon'Din. She could not deny that she was considering if this was a foolish idea. Slightly late, but better late than never. At Andruil's ball Falon'Din had seemed so kind, but did Solas not say that it was a game of deception? She herself was lying in her dance, could it be possible that Falon'Din was doing the same? "Still. I do not see what is so curious, I thought you enjoyed my company at the ball."

"It is not your company I find so curious, merely your appearance." Falon'Din commented reaching out to brush his surprisingly cold fingers across Ceirw's cheekbones, only to hesitantly drop the fingers to the part of her neck that her robes exposed and finally withdrawing them altogether. The action was not at all sensual, he brushed her skin in a way a scholar brushed over cave paintings. "I assume you bruised your neck by falling, no?"

A flush of red swamped Ceirw in seconds. She had not thought to check if Solas' neck nuzzling had left any marks on her. Perhaps skipping a look in a mirror was unwise. She inwardly cursed the eluvian designers. Mirrors that you could step through but they did not do well to reflect appearance when they wobbled with magical energy. Evidently, not looking in a mirror was a foolish mistake on her part. In reflex to Falon'Din's words, she pulled the collar of the robe higher. She was not ashamed, but it clearly took him no time to put two and two together. It could prove disastrous if someone else saw. She could not cover her face, however. Not that she recalled anything being marked on it. Yet, the way Falon'Din pressed his fingers to her cheek implied something was wrong there too.

"I think we both know exactly what happened to my neck." Ceirw replied in a more guarded tone that she carried with confidence. She was not about to play to his little game. "The question is, what is that information to you?"

"My brother Dirthamen is not the only being capable of keeping secrets." Falon'Din assured with a gentle smile that settled an unacknowledged ease in Ceirw. "I do believe you wanted to talk, no?" He extended his pale hand to Ceirw, inclining for the woman to take it.

"Believe it or not, I'm suddenly not sure I trust you. " Ceirw said, still staring at the offered hand.

"I admire your scrutiny, but you did call me here and you are surly aware that if I wished to hurt you I could have done it already. I mean you no harm, mortal." It was a fact that could not be denied. She was speaking to death and if he wanted her gone, he could do so. Despite all Solas said about Falon'Din, there was a kindness in his smile that Ceirw was sure could not be faked.

"Okay."

 

* * *

 

 

Falon'Din decided to skip the eluvian's altogether. He seemed to teleport as if out of thin air. Well, perhaps more intelligently than that, he tore a veil in which they stepped through. He was a being that could walk between plains, it should not surprise her, particularly after he appeared before her so suddenly. Their chosen location was a large crystal spire. Around it stemmed trees made of white marble and followers marked with Falon'Din's vallaslin, dressed in robes of pale, pastel orange. It took no genius to deduce that this was Falon'Din's temple. At least in the waking world. A being like him, no doubt had homes in various places. As he walked past, with Ceirw in tow his priests and other followers all bowed deeply. A favour that he returned.

Falon brought her up crystal steps and into a main chamber where neither of them lingered. With a sharp turn to his left, he lead Ceirw up a mountain of spiralling stairs. It was a good thing she was dalish and trained. Many people might have been breathless by the time they reached the top of the staircase. A top the stairs was a large oval room. To her surprise it was filled with many chairs but not 'thrones'. A round glass-like table sat at the centre of the seats and as Falon'Din took one, he motioned for Ceirw to take another.

"What's this room for?" Ceirw asked as she sank in to a seat beside Falon'Din. As she gazed up at the temple walls, she noticed the familiarity of Solas' artwork. Painted across each wall was a depiction of the gods. Had she not seen them all in person she might have not made the connection, but each panel held a striking resembles. Despite the simplicity of the art work.

"Tis where most of the gods hold meetings. On rare occasion we get together to pass council on events. There are several places in both this world and the beyond in which we can do this." Falon'Din commented following Ceirw's gaze and observing the paintings like she assumed he had done many times before. "We often end up here because it serves as mutual ground. Everyone is on the wall. No chair is bigger. No ones spirit is 'better' than anyone elses. As it were."

There was definitely a rationality in those words that Ceirw couldn't deny. Still, the idea that the creators needed a room with chairs all the same size and all their pictures on the wall, just to get alone amicably seemed...well petty. Nobility and politics was always the same, be that elvhen or spirit.

"Now, what did you wish to talk about, I assure you there are wards up around this room. Everything is private." Falon'Din explained leaning gracefully on the table.

"Ah, I fear you might of misunderstood. I merely wanted to talk. Not about anything in particular, but company."

Her words seemed to surprise Falon'Din, though he was far less expressive about it than someone else might be. His eyebrows flinched slightly and he leaned back from the table, still with grace. "It has been a long time since any living mortal has asked to simply speak to me. Do you not have other elvhen you can talk to?"

Not here. "I'm starting to see a reoccurring pattern here. Gods who don't like to consider mortals as friends."

"Not at all. I speak to my devout often. I adore the people and their spirits. I just assumed that you called upon me for my blessing." Falon'Din replied and his words made Ceirw's face scrumple.

"What would I need or want that for?" She asked still with a face of scrunched confusion.

Falon'Din now laxed back into his chair, sinking down and flickering his silver eyes over Ceirw's face. "Well, it is clear you and Fen'Harel are disregarding Andruil's and the court's wishes--" He inclined his head slightly to Ceirw's neck, not that she needed him to point out what he was implying. "--I was merely presumptuous in thinking you had come here to become a priestess of my own. That way you might appease Andruil and dispel suspicion and Fen'Harel can keep you as his mortal mistress."

Ceirw could not deny that would be a smart idea, if not for the fact that Solas didn't trust Falon and that Falon'Din was missing the point. She was not simply Solas' mistress. The gods might think of her as a petty little faun, but the truth was far from that. She was a herald of the inquisition and soon closer of the breach. She could not blame Falon'Din for jumping to conclusion, however. He did not know the whole story. He no doubt assumed Solas and Ceirw were sleeping with each other to piss Andruil off. Which might have been the case for Solas. A thought she wouldn't dwell on.

"No, I didn't mean to imply any of that. I'm very happy with my current situation. I just wanted to talk." She confirmed.

"Then why don't you have Fen'Harel's vallaslin on your face?"

The words were like a bold bolt of lightning coursing through her, startling her with surprise. She bent over the glass like table and looked at the opaque reflection it returned. She had never thought to look for her bare-face before, but there it was. Cleansed of all blood-writing. Free. She was moved by the gesture, but cautious of where it put her now. Solas had no doubt removed it because he cared for their friendship, or perhaps wished to spare her the ridicule she received at the festival of Mythal. It was a beautiful gesture, but it could backfire. Was her freedom of ownership also Solas giving up all protection? If she was no longer his priestess, what did that mean for her in the company of Falon'Din. These were the thoughts that spiralled through her mind as she locked eyes with her distorted reflection.

"Forgive me, Falon'Din, but I should wish to leave." Ceirw commented still watching her ghostly reflection in the glass as she moved to stand.

"I'd rather you didn't." Was the reply that came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so if anyone is interested I have a lil fan-cast of headcanons for how some of the characters look. (You can of course read and interpret the characters however you like!)  
> As I said previously, Idris Elba- Elgar'nan.  
> Jude Law - Falon'Din  
> Katie Mcgrath - Ceirw  
> Wentworth Miller - Solas  
> Evan Rachel Wood - Sylaise  
> Amaury Nolasco - June  
> Those are my only headcanons so far, but if you guys have any thoughts, feel free to comment.


	16. Confusion And Gaps In Information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly in love with everyone's 'I'm worried' comments. Also interested in people saying they're into some LeePace!Falon'Din/Lavellan. That is not a ship I thought anyone would ship, but hey, I aint judging. Anyways enjoy this rollercoaster of a chapter :) As always, I appreciate everything.

"I'd rather you didn't." Was the reply that came.

"Why not?" Ceirw asked looking to Falon'Din suspiciously as she came to a stand. Her face being bare put a whole new twist on things. Being in Falon'Din's presence was no longer friendly it was threatening.

"Unmarked and alone you could get into trouble. If you stay here, I can protect you." Falon assured her with his crisp voice. The walls surrounding them were guarded, true, but were they locking beings out or keeping Ceirw in.

Ceirw walked over to the door she had entered through and pulled it back. Stepping out onto the steps that lead down to the main floor. Falon'Din's presence followed behind her each step of the way.

"I do not need your protection, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Ceirw replied taking each step as it came. She may not be a goddess, but she was hardly a child. The last thing she needed was a god that Solas did not trust trying to keep her in his temple. Solas didn't even know where she was. She didn't for that matter, know where he was either. That's why she needed to get back. The stair case had taken far too long to climb and Ceirw was sick of it already on the way back down. Stopping promptly on one of the steps, she conjured her magic, using a fade step to arrive at the bottom of the staircase quickly.

"See. Perfectly capable of taking care of myself." She repeated over her shoulder a little breathless from the quick movement of the fade step, suspecting Falon'Din would be close by. Now she just had to work out how to get from Falon'Din's main hall to Solas' dwelling. "I just need to return Fen'Harel's mirror and despite how cryptic you've been, it was nice t see you again."

"At least let me guide you there." Falon said, and Ceirw turned to look at him, standing proudly like a silver statue at the base of the stairwell. "Should a certain huntress find you--"

"--She'll what, Kill me?" Ceirw finished off for Falon'Din and he nodded. "Why should I trust you more than Andruil?"

A beat passed before either spoke again.

"I did try to warn you." Falon spoke softly looking at the space over Ceirw's shoulder and staring behind her.

"Warn me about what?" Ceirw asked turning to look behind her and following Falon'Din's line of sight.

"That's what I'd like to know."

The hairs on the back of Ceirw's neck stood up. For though she spoke with Falon'Din, it was a woman's voice who replied to her. Ceirw's eyes had turned to find Andruil standing three feet in front of her.

Andruil's armor clung to her body like a golden casing and as always her bow hung over her shoulder. The goddess' full lips formed into a smirk as she looked over Ceirw. Ceirw had not suspected Falon'Din capable of turning her over so easily. Solas was right, she never should have trusted him.

Ceirw tossed a glance back over her shoulder. For a fraction of a second gold met silver as Ceirw's eyes locked with Falon'Din's. His eyes slipped to the side and she followed his gaze to the empty doorway in which they had came in. In that fraction of a second Ceirw stared at death and her fight or flight instinct kicked in. Flight. She was not sure if his indication to the door was an attempt to help or if he was warning her not attempt escape, but she had to get out of that situation. No matter if Falon'Din was friend or foe. Lavellan drew on the elements of frost and propelled herself towards the door. Her fade steps had helped her so often in the past when she ended up in melee range, it seemed the wisest choice at this point. She didn't know where she was running to, but she could work that out later. The elf's feet left an icy trail as she flew down the corridor in a slide of frost.

The action had taken some energy, but there was no time for slowing down. Gasping for air, she stepped out into the court yard where Falon's followers stared at her in confusion. Her lungs burned from the sharp intakes of breath she made, but she needed to get out of here. Ceirw drew on her mana once more and jerked her body forward. She did not come to halt until she was some several meters away from Falon'Din's crystal spire.

Her heart pounded in her eardrums and like a woman dying of thirst, she gulped in air. There was no time for her to linger. She had to keep moving. Now was not the time to falter. Staying resilient, Ceirw made for the tree line, choking out amongst her raspy breaths, "Fen'Harel, I need you..." Ducking in to the cover of the trees. "I'm in danger..." Suddenly, very much the little halla, the gods wrongly accused her of. "Please." The prey to Andruil's hunt. That's when it hit her. The reason Andruil had frightened her. She did not want her to stay. She wanted her to run. Like the slaves she hunted down for sport. Ceirw was not ahead by choice. She was ahead because Andruil wanted her to be and possibly because Falon'Din had directed her as such.

She would not let the eerie thought of Andruil hunting her dismay her. Ceirw slammed her palm to a tree trunk, doubling over to catch her breath. If it came to it, she would fight. She was not fragile. She was mortal, true, but that did not make her a child or an animal. She was a doe in name only.

One thing still tore at her. Had Falon'Din betrayed because she would not stay? She did not even get an explanation because she ran so fast. Her skin crawled at how slyly he must have called on Andruil. Speak of devil and he shall come, or in this case think. As Ceirw's breaths drew in raggedly, Falon'Din appeared before her. Sickening her to her core, he appeared stricken with worry.

"Am I to assume I'm about to die? Is that why you're here?" Ceirw spat back spitefully yanking herself from the tree and stepping backwards from Falon'Din.

"No, not if you do what I tell you." Falon'Din spoke urgently, each word that poured from his pale lips made Ceirw's stomach churn.

  
"Oh, I see. You call on Andruil and then back me in to a corner." Ceirw hissed back, raising both her hands in the direction of the god. She had never thought to find herself fighting death so literally, but if it was the choice between dying or living, she would live or go down fighting.

"I can explain what happened later, for now she is close on your heels and I have no time. Allow me to mark you my servant and she will not be allowed to touch you." Falon'Din raised his hands to cast his vallaslin on Ceirw, but she was prepared for an attack, if not necessarily one of that nature. She was sick of being bound by gods and sick of being lied to by that one in particular.

"Don't even dare!" Was her own bitter reply. As Falon made to cast his spell, Ceirw cast hers. A wall of icicles burst up from the ground. Guarding her from Falon'Din, whom was now lost at the other side. She did not wait to watch him break it or pass it, she simply ran. She could not feel the tingle on her skin, and assumed that his spell did not take it's hold thanks to her blockade.

Part of her wanted to consider if Falon was telling her the truth. Could it be possible that Andruil just happened to visit Falon'Din whilst Ceirw was there. No. She could not believe that. Fate was not that cruel.

Ceirw's legs felt heavy and numb and over the pounding of her heart she could hear galloping in the near distance. Distaste at the image of Andruil taking time to mount made Ceirw's tongue curl. She could imagine anything or anyone watching her must think she was pathetic, sprinting through the trees. She would gladly fight a dragon, but to know two gods were in pursuit was enough to make anyone terrified. She was brave not stupid. She kept running and running and then...she stopped.

  
Solas' stoney chest was what Ceirw collided with. She stepped back from the man to look him over. His eyes were narrowed and his lip was a fine line. Something was off that Ceirw could at first, not pinpoint, but on closer inspection she could see it. Both Solas' nostrils were crusted with blood and the man looked weary. Looking over his robes now, she could see tears in it.

"What happened?" Solas and Ceirw said in unison, each other their voices laced with worry.

Solas did not make to speak again, so Ceirw did. "Falon'Din, Andruil...I'm not marked." The words seemed to take a moment to sink in. Ceirw was rather troubled she had such a hard time getting them out. All the running had her feeling sick, Solas' presence only allowed her guard to falter slightly.

"Why are you even outside I-- Never mind that. Does Andruil know what happened between us?" Heck, Ceirw didn't even know what happened between them. Solas gave Ceirw a questioning look as he raggedly placed barriers up around the two. The haunting sound of Andruil's mount riding closer echoed through the forest. Evidently running was not an option.

"I'm not sure. Falon'Din figured it out, but I don't know if she hea--"

"Did you confirm Falon'Din's suspicions?" Solas asked cutting Ceirw off as Andruil's figure blurred in the near trees.

"I...I don't remember. I think so." Ceirw replied in the words tumbling from her lips in a haste panic. Solas' own worry and roughed up appearance wasn't doing anything to put her at ease.

Andruil's halla slowed to a stop about three feet away from Solas and though he had placed up barriers, Solas stepped cautiously closer to Ceirw. Surprisingly to Ceirw, Andruil did not look annoyed to see Solas stand before her. Like a feather, Andruil gracefully flowed off her halla and stood to the ground. As Andruil reached for her bow, the forest turned into a chilling silence, the only noise that broke the uneasy quiet was the sound of wings flapping. On a near by tree a paper white owl landed, contorting it's neck to look from Ceirw, to Solas, to Andruil.

"Fen'Harel, I'm disappointed. Here I thought she was un-inked as a gift to me." Andruil joked with a smirked. "And now you stand between me and my prize."

  
"There appears to be a misunderstanding." Solas purred back to Andruil, clasping his hands behind his back, despite his appearance and situation he had an air of utter control.  
"This is my priestess and you shall not harm her."

"You think me blind, Wolf? I see the mouth-marks on her neck. You have broken your promise." Ceirw almost buried her neck deep in to her collar, but there was no point now. They had been seen and covering them up would result in nothing.

Solas opened his mouth to speak, but both gods were silenced by the appearance of Falon'Din. The white owl on the branch had swooped down and in a singular movement, shaped into the figure of the god she knew. Taller than each of the other gods, he stood to the left of them creating a perfect triangle of tension. He stood looking calm and collected. Not a singular hair out of place.

"I'm afraid the blame there is mine, Andruil." Falon'Din said much to Ceirw's surprise. That man was becoming an enigma of confusion to her. Whose side was he on? She was clearly missing a lot of information.

"Are you claiming you're bedding Fen'Harel's chantress?" Andruil asked and her words produced a growl from Solas who had the nerve to look over his shoulder at Ceirw questioningly. If not for the tense situation she would punch that look right off his face. She took a mental note to do that later. If there was a later.

"Yes."

"No." Solas' voice cut after Falon'Din's in a warning.

Andruil looked between the two men and then finally looked at Ceirw. "Which is it?"

'None of your business' was her initial thought, but that was the kind of smart-arsed retort that got one killed. It was a tricky question. If she named Solas she would be sentencing him to a crime, not that an act so loving as what they did should be classed as such. Elgar'nan said that Andruil could do what she wished as punishment. She did not want Solas to die. Then there was Falon'Din. Was she supposed to believe it a coincidence that Andruil showed up when she did. His motives were questionable at best, but of her two options his certainly implied less death.

"Falon'Din."

"See, you are misunderstood, Andruil." Falon'Din replied with an air superiority. "In fact Fen'Harel unmarked her so that I could." Ceirw's face creased in disgust and Andruil's with bewilderment.

"No." Solas' voice came once more cutting through the tension. "I unmarked her because it was in my right to do so. I will not stand here and have _'you'_ of all people belittle my actions." Solas practically spat the word 'you' in the direction of Falon'Din.

"So you don't deny that it was you who hunted the halla?" Andruil growled and reached for an arrow from his quiver.

"I do deny it." Solas snapped back to Andruil with a quiet rage. "I did not hunt her because she is not an animal, she is a person!"

"Falon'Din, this matter is no longer a concern to you. Leave." Andruil hissed out, Solas' wounds wounding her.

"Your pride will be your downfall, Fen'Harel." Falon'Din uttered in a cool and calm tone. He then turned his eyes to Ceirw and added, "I was only trying to help." With a slight shake of the head, Falon transformed into the snow owl once more and fluttered out of sight.

Ceirw was confused. If Falon'Din was to be believed, Andruil arrived at his temple and caught a barefaced, neck bitten Ceirw talking to him. Ceirw ran and Andruil pursued, and so Falon'Din was trying to help her? Still, it did not explain why Solas arrived when he did with blood on his face.

"You heard Elgar'nan's ruling, Fen'Harel. I am granted punishment." Andruil cackled, knocking an arrow with a peculiar tip. The way the veil warped around it, implied it was not a normal arrow. Well as normal as Andruil's tended to be.

"You can try." Solas spoke back.

Andruil's arrow pierced through Solas' barrier but he expected such a scenario anda blinding surge of green energy pressed back against Andruil in sharp licks of lightning, diffusing the barrier she had created herself. Holding her bow highly, Andruil rebutted with a mind blast. A mind blast that was far more powerful than Ceirw had ever encountered before. The power of the blast sent the elf flying back and a sharp pain at the base of her skull was the last thing she felt before blacking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo Falon'Din, if he was genuine or not, we'll just need to see.


	17. Falon'Din And The War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this update. I will make up for it with another one tonight! I had lots of college work and then a party to catch up on, so I was either busy or drunk the past few days, sorry! Hope you enjoy and as always love the comments and you guys <3

Aching pain pulsed through the back of Lavellan's skull. When she came to conciousness, the first thing she noticed was the throbbing of a migraine. Her eyes remained closed as she struggled to move. When she rolled over on to her side, Ceirw forced her eyes open. She was met with the sight of the forest floor. Grass with broken branches and rocks clustered her foreground, and she came to the realisation of her being injured in Solas and Andruil's scuffle. Despite her thoughts, the way her head hung and the movement caused another sharp twinge of pain up the back of her head and she let out a hiss of pain. Instead of her own hand reaching to comfort the base of her skull, another gentle hand cupped her head. As the fingers pressed against her crown, she could feel her short hair was matted and sticky. She groaned at the feel of the wet blood on her head and the person holding her released some healing magic. Accompanying the action with a gentle 'hush'. 

"How bad is it, Solas?" Ceirw replied in a cracked voice, pulling her eyes open once more to take in the sight of the forest floor.

"Not as fatal as I suspected." The voice soothed. The voice however, did not belong to Solas. Ceirw recognised the voice as Falon'Din's.

Ceirw's was far too weak to use magic. It did not escape her how vulnerable she was and with no grasp on what the current situation was, Falon was not to be trusted. Her eyes looked over the ground in front of her and falling upon at rock, she took the opportunity that presented itself. Falon'Din had been healing her, which meant his barriers were probably down. Knowing it would cause her pain, Lavellan reached out for the rock and grabbed it tightly. Swinging all her weight around; nearly passing out from dizziness, she collided the rock against Falon'Din's temple. 

Though Ceirw felt the collision, she did not see it. Her eye-sight blurred and took time to re-adjust. When it had, she viewed Falon'Din bent over beside her. Both his hands were stained with blood. One of them with hers and another his own as he brushed the top of his forehead. This only furthered her knowledge that these 'gods' were not truly immortal. Perhaps their spirits were, but their vessels could clearly be injured. 

To her dismay, her attack did not give her much of a head start, Ceirw had barely sat upright, when Falon'Din started to heal the small gash on his face. She braced her back on a tree trunk and sat staring back at the man. Rock still clutched in her hand. To his merit, he only revealed a little annoyance, but mostly amusement at her actions. 

"All that time with Fen'Harel has left you suspicious." Falon'Din spoke, raising both his red hands up in yielding to Ceirw, always the mystery. 

"I think it's fair to say the suspicion came when you called Andruil on me." Ceirw spat back, her words not having much bite due to her uneasy feeling. "I will strike you again. Now where is S- Fen'Harel?" 

Falon'Din lowered both his hands. For the first time since she'd met him, Ceirw saw him dirtied. With the blood and grass stains on his clothes, he did not seem this pure, ghostly vision. He was far more grim and fearful; Ceirw thought. 

"I did not call on her, you did." Falon explained and when Ceirw raised a sceptical brow he continued, "You stood in a temple surrounded by offerings, next to a god and said Andruil's name. How could she not be curious about you of all people, speaking of her in my temple?" 

"Do you really expect me to believe that? You said her name too and in the past I've said it and she didn't show up." Ceirw scoffed. 

"In the past I presume you were always at Fen'harel's side and I do not imagine you called her name out in a temple full of offerings. That is much like lighting a fiery beacon to spirits such as us." 

"No. You're wrong....aren't you?" Falon'Din shook his head in the slightest movement to her words. Thinking back, he was right. Whilst Falon had said Andruil's name, he only ever said it in the room with the barriers. That would explain why he didn't want Ceirw to leave...

"...You were actually trying to help? Why?" Lavellan asked, her whole face crinkled in confusion. Amber eyes scrutinising over Falon'Din for some sort of telling. 

"You creatures. So curious and full of questions." Falon'Din replied shaking his head. "I am a seer as you know, golden deer. Though I do not see all that will happen, I know much more than others should know I do. I foresee The Dread Wolf being in position of great power, I do not know what he is going to do then, but I wish to gain his favour before that time comes." 

"So. What? You thought helping him with his 'mistress' would make him like you?" Ceirw asked in disbelief and to his credit, Falon'Din laughed. 

"In all the years I have known him he has never taken a priest, he has shown such little caring for followers...unlike some of us. You are important to him. I don't know why. All I know is, that after centuries of dark humour and torment, I am starting to see a light in his spirit. A light I saw in Andruil when she was with Ghilan'nain." Falon'Din showed Ceirw a soft smile, and concluded his words. "Furthermore, you are one of the people and I am here to guide you, in not only death but life too." 

Ceirw was somewhat dumbfounded. At this point did Falon'Din have any cause to lie? Did his story even make sense? Questions that circled in her mind. Still one far more important question remained to be answered. 

"I believe you...but where is he?" 

"Andruil has him. He was in no fit state to fight. It did not take her long to capture him." Falon'Din's words made Ceirw's heart sink. Solas was weak and Ceirw put him in danger.

"You are fortunate she presumed you dead. Which you very nearly were, it was your draining life span that called me back here. I hoping she is too busy with Fen'Harel to care or notice you are alive." 

"So what do we do now and please don't be cryptic about it?" Ceirw asked, searching Falon'Din for an answer. Surly he knew something, anything that could help Solas. 

"I suggest, under the guise of animals, cloaked in night, we go get a better look." Falon'Din retorted and Ceirw rolled her eyes. Well, that was certainly less cryptic than it could have been. She could not deny he was trying. 

"I can't shape shift." She said simply.

"I can shift you temporarily." 

Ceirw cast Falon'Din a side glance. All his attempts had seemed so genuine that she could not deny that he clearly wanted to help. For whatever his motives, she was left for dead and instead of guiding her to the beyond he had pulled to her aid. Now he offered her further help, and for all she hated to admit it, she was helpless. Unlike Solas she did not have a strong long-living life span. She could not simply wait until Andruil was finished tormenting him, for that could be centuries. In this moment, her only real option was to trust Falon'Din or she may never see Redcliffe again. 

"Why does Fen'Harel hate you?" Ceirw asked. "Be honest." 

The question clearly took the god of death by surprise because he blinked and retorted with a baffled, "Excuse me?" 

"If you want me to trust you, I had need to know what happened between you both. Unless you've got something to hide?" Ceirw prodded again. 

Falon'Din's pale form curled cross legged on the grass. He clasped his scarlet, blood-soaked fingers together and held them in his lap. For a long moment, his face was stone. Ceirw could only assume he was processing her words. Considering his own heavily. 

"In days long passed, I was overtaken by an insane desire. The elvhen people new of us and worshipped, in the time before Arlathan. When the world had not long begun. All the people wished to be protected and have love. Or wanted vengeance or knowledge...So few wished to die." Falon'Din looked straight into Ceirw's eyes as he spoke and she could see a pain inside them that chilled her.

"Then there was a war. I remember how the mortal creatures fled to my side. Offerings so great. I had never felt so loved by them. Guide them to a better place should they fall. Help them not to die. They loved me and I them. Then the war ended and It was as though I no longer existed."

"What did you do?" Ceirw whispered, feeling a great deal of pity for him. 

"At first, I started a war...then another. Before I knew it, the world was chaos. Fen'Harel tried to stop me. I wouldn't listen. Nor would the other gods. Fen'harel tried to get them to care...to rebel against me. Oh he was rebellious back then. I would set up for people die and he would play tricks and lay traps that would save them. Eventually Mythal listened to Fen'harel's words. The gods and the elvhen praised Mythal for her protection, but the gods forgot about Fen'harel's warnings and the people blamed Fen'harel for the wars, not believing I was capable."

Ceirw didn't know what to say. Her only reaction was 'Oh.' That explained so much about both Falon and Solas. That also answered why Solas turned to the forgotten ones. All he did was try and help and people took him for granted. Even thousands of years in the future, in her time people would call Falon'Din friend and Fen'Harel a betrayer. 

"I have cherished the people every day after that dark time. I abused my power and I regret that, but you can trust that my repent is genuine." He assured, her.

Ceirw remained silent, sitting with Falon'Din and processing his tale. She believed him. When they first met at the ball he appeared to be kind and she would not turn away his help for mistakes a younger man made in his place. 

"When you say shapeshifting into an animal...what did you have in mind?"


	18. Fen'Harel And The Tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trying to get these chapters up as often as possible. Finding time to write them is just remarkably hard at the moment. (And believe me, I enjoy writing them!) As always thank you for kind comments and patience!

Lavellan was a fox. Under the cloak of night, Falon'Din had shaped the mage's body into the form of the woodland creature. His original suggest was an owl, but asking her to fly would prove difficult and they didn't have that kind of time. Falon's own form was his snow owl from before, he lead Ceirw from above. The movements of her fox form proved difficult at first, but she very soon got the hang of it, finding a large white allow, easy to follow through the night. In the guise of a fox, everything seemed heightened. She could hear better and see clearer for starters. It is no doubt for that reason Falon'Din transfigured her into a fox and not the tongue in cheek-halla she had expected him to make her.  
In her borrowed form, she bounded through the woods, watching Falon'Din lead her backed by a sea of black, glittering with stars. From overhead, she watched Falon'Din swoop down and realised they must be close.

For all foxes were sly, she thought this a little on the nose. Whilst shape-shifting was a highly renown form of magic, Ceirw had no interest in it. Especially not after this. Her movements slowed as she approached a clearing, still hidden in darkness and the cover of trees.

In said clearing was a camp. A tent propped up several meters from a small fire, a small fire that Andruil was working on. Behind her, Ceirw could see Solas. She had never seen the man look so frail and broken. He looked near unconscious and was injured in bruises and grazes all over. Whatever magic he had left must have been used to keep him concious, because she could not understand why he would leave them unhealed. The sight of the man she loved only sparked anger inside of her. In any other situation she'd have attacked Andruil right there. Calling on Elgar'nan, all the while. Of course, that was not one of those situations.

Andruil turned from the now roaring fire and back to Solas, a wicked grin on her face. Solas was bound to that tree by silver vines and Andruil was disgusting enough to look pleased about it.

"Oh dread wolf, how quiet you are." Andruil teased, each word that fell from her mouth was like poison and Ceirw wanted to be sick. How could she have done this to him? Further, who had hurt him before he met in her the woods? There was so much she didn't understand and all she wanted to do was help him.

"Just contemplating my options." Solas snarked back to Andruil.

The cackle of laughter sent shivers up Lavellan's spine. Human form or not, Andruil always filled her with unease. Easily with these borrowed eyes, she looked around for Falon'Din. What was he waiting for? For Andruil to fall asleep? That could take ages and Ceirw held the worry that Andruil might attempt to hurt Solas more before she grew tired.

"You have no options." Andruil's reply came. "You hunted that pretty little halla and now you're mine. What was it you said? I could wait one hundred years and a day and the answer would still be no? I think that's the perfect amount of time you should serve in my bed."

Ceirw didn't mean the disgusted growl that slipped her lips. She wanted to scream abusive slurs at Andruil in a way she had spoke to no person before. If she was in her elvhen form she'd have hastily attacked the goddess before her, holding nothing back. As it was, the distaste she expressed came out in a animalistic hiss that caught Andruil's attention. Right then Lavellan was thankful for her disguise as Andruil barely stole a glance. It appeared that given her preoccupation with Solas, a fox was hardly of interest. She would have to give Falon'Din his credit for the disguise.

"As I was saying...you're mine." Andruil concluded and turned back to her fire.

"You're wrong." They were Ceirw's thoughts but she did not speak them.

The very earth beneath Ceirw froze. All the plants seemed wilt as though rotting from the core. Andruil once more looked at Ceirw in her fox form and this time Andruil was the worried looking one. Ceirw could not understand what about her had become so intimidating. Then she realised the obvious. Andruil was not looking at her. She was looking behind her.

Ceirw arched her head in time to watch black billowing cloaks float past her. She was unfortunately at ankle height and did not get a good look at the person walking past her. What she felt was something entirely different. Whoever approached gave of this unearthly, icy aura. If Andruil sent shivers up Ceirw's spine with words, this person made her freeze soild in presence alone.

"Fen'Harel belongs to me, I was dealing with him earlier until the little puppy so poorly ran away." The voice that spoke was like uncomfortable noise of two swords scratching along each other. The words were heavy and raspy.

"Anaris." Andruil spat, appertaining a sword in to her hand. "You are not welcome here."

"Or what?" The man replied in a teasing tone; he circled around Andruil and Ceirw caught glimpse of his face. If his voice was enough to freeze her in fear, his appearance was enough to make her sick. Falon'Din, Sylaise, June. The gods of the pantheon always held themselves high with pride of appearance. Anaris, one of the forgotten ones, dweller of the void, clearly did not hold such standards.

His face was all but skeletal, the skin was grey and pulled across the bone tightly. Where a nose ought to have been there was a mushed, and gnarled lump of flesh with no nostrils. The most unsettling thing about him was none of those however, it was his eyes. His eyes were full black with no whites. Ceirw had only ever seen a pride demon with eyes as such. The black orbs sat deep in two hollows of his face and though she could not be sure, Ceirw assumed they were looking at Andruil.

"Fen'Harel is subject to the Pantheon!" Andruil screeched back.

"Aw, what's wrong?" Anaris replied coldly, pouting thin lips to Andruil. "You worried I'm going to kill this little pet like we killed the last one? What was her name?...Ghillian?"

"How dare you threaten me! I could have Elgar'nan here in a second!" Andruil's words were shaky with anger, but the threat seemed to make the creature Anaris consider her words. Though Ceirw would argue Anaris seemed the more frightening of the two, Elgar'nan was certainly not someone to be thought lightly of.

"A duel for the wolf then?" Anaris rasped to Andruil and pulled a long crooked sword from beneath his torn, black robes.

Andruil did not wait a moment before springing into action. As two swords clashed, Ceirw watched Anaris parry Andruil's strike, stepping to the side like the grotesque shadow he was. Lavellan, looked up for Falon'Din, surly this was no part of the plan? What if Anaris won? What would happen to Solas? He was just left tied to that tree... Ceirw couldn't believe she didn't see it before. Fen'Harel and the tree. It was such a common story among the dalish. She heard it when she was ten for crying out loud! Anaris would win. She knew exactly how this was going to play out and despite her worry, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Solas was going to be fine.

She watched the battle rage on, both the shadow and huntress were skilled and danced around, guarding themselves and dodging each others blows.

"Anaris!" Solas inevitable cried out. "There's a flaw in her armour just above the hip!" In the seconds it took for the two gods to register his words, Anaris had sunken his poisonous blade deep into Andruil's hip. Though she moved to parry the blow, Solas' words had taken her by surprise and it left the area open. Andruil let out a hiss of pain and sunk to the ground. Anaris paid her no mind as he turned his back to her.

"Thank you, Dread Wolf. I promise when ripping your soul from your vessel, I'll do it quickly."

"I let you win that fight..." Solas panted out breathless from his injuries and the energy his earlier cry took. "You owe me a debt..an... and I demand you release me." Ceirw would have smiled if she was in her own form. Watching Solas talk himself out of a situation when he was in position to was amazing, if not baffling.

"How dare you! After killing my beast for one of those gods, you would have me spare you. You vile, repulsive snake!" Ceirw's humour at Solas' gall was lost when she watched Anaris kick Solas roughly in the face. Solas' entire head slammed into the tree trunk behind him with the force. When his head rolled forward and hung limply, Ceirw thought it was over, but Anaris was cursing in words that were not elvhen; once more he raised his foot, only to collided it with Solas' face.

She wanted to do something, the stories never mentioned this. She couldn't simply sit there in that stupid helpless form, whilst this vulgar creature beat Solas. Fortunately her silent prayers were answer. Andruil who was down and breathing labouredly had pulled out her bow and arrow. The moment she released the arrow, Andruil slumped weakly to the ground.

Anaris fell with a golden arrow in his back. He was caught unaware and shrieked with pain as the golden tip pierced through the back of his robes and whatever flesh hid beneath. Ceirw stood in the tree-line watching in silence as both gods lay unconscious on the grass, blood pooling around them both. Although Anaris' she noted was a very dark brown, as opposed to red. The smell was not something she could ever forget. Like the stench of a thousand corpses.

Without warning magic pulsed through Ceirw and she felt her limbs morph. The fox features transformed into that of her regular shape and she was left sitting, crouched on the forest floor. Slowly she rose, and the feeling to a moment to get re-accustomed with. Once Falon'Din stepped into the clearing; that was all she needed to run fumbling to Solas' side.

"They will take a day to sleep these off. Perhaps two. No doubt suspecting The Dread Wolf, will stay bound for whoever awakes first." Falon commented, gracefully stepping over Andruil's unconscious body.

"Why isn't he awake?!" Ceirw choked out to Falon'Din, running over to Solas one legs that felt numb, like the way they did when you slept in an odd position too long. Immediately Ceirw cupped Solas' beaten face between her soft hands, palm in either cheek. She gently lifted his face to meet hers. It hurt to see his face so broken. Since she arrived he had been nothing but strong.

"Without pointing out the obvious, you did just witness his beating, yes?" Falon'Din said simply, crouching down beside Ceirw.

"No, but he's supposed to bite through the vines." Ceirw mumbled mostly to herself, letting her forehead lightly bump against Solas'.

"Clearly he's in no position." Falon'Din made a gesture and the vines turned from silver to to grey, dying and falling loosely to the ground. With nothing holding him to the tree, Solas' body slumped side ways into Ceirw's embrace. "We'll take him back to his mirror. Then I'll leave him to heal in your care."

Ceirw held on to Solas' body protectively, nodding to Falon'Din's words.

 

* * *

 

 

Getting back to Solas' mirror was easy with Falon's magic. It left Ceirw feeling drained, but with her earlier blood loss and all the events of the past day, she could hardly blame her exhaustion on just the fade stepping. Falon'Din magically held Solas' body, levitating it behind him. Despite this, Ceirw still held out and took his hand. She couldn't do anything for him, not really, but it was a comfort. Perhaps for them both.

The three of them stepped through the onyx chamber and then Ceirw pointed in the direction of her 'room'. It was the most sensible option at present and Falon followed her indication. Once Solas was settle on the bed, the god of death bowed to her and made to leave.

"I won't let him forget this." Ceirw assured the pale man as he stepped to the exit.

"I should hope not." He said in pause and then continued to leave the room and then the sphere.

At first Ceirw only sat on the bed's edge next to Solas, looking over his beaten form. She wanted to do something. Anything. Falon'Din assured her he needed no healing, that in a few hours he would heal himself. Sitting there felt useless, so Lavellan decided to return the kindness Solas once gave her. She stood from the bed and stepped quietly out into the main chamber. Taking the door she new lead to the bath room. She fetched a bowl of clean warm water; heated by the fire and and a clean cloth.

Ceirw returned to Solas' side and placed the bowl of water on the bedside table. With light, delicate fingers, she peeled back his robes. It was a tricky process but with gentle manoeuvring, the elf managed to remove Solas of his robes. Once she had stripped him down, she noticed a particular vicious looking wound on his thigh. It was a wound she knew must belong to one of Andruil's arrows. Hesitantly she cleaned that first. Then his chest, hands, arms, and then finally his face.

As she cleaned some wounds, Solas would let out a pained groan that tugged on Ceirw's heartstrings. She would gently 'hush' him and he would not reply. When the job was done, Ceirw tossed the soiled cloth into the cool water.

"This might sound stupid..." Ceirw murmured under her breath to the unconscious man. "...I just want you to know that I forgive you. For everything you've yet to do. No matter who judges you for it. I'll be there, okay?" Ceirw's voice cracked as each word went on, tears stinging at her eyes. "Everyone makes mistakes and I know deep down your soul is pure, Solas. I love you and I'm here for you. Always."

She hated seeing him like that She hated Andruil and Anaris for doing this to him. She almost hated herself for putting him in the situation that lead to him being so hurt. Ceirw stood from the bed and pulled the warmth of blankets over Solas' sleeping form. With a yawn, she circled to the bed's other side and slipped beneath the very same blankets. It was a large enough bed that she did not need to worry about hurting him and secretly she hoped some of her warmth would comfort him.

Staring up at the glittering stars painted on the ceiling, Ceirw fell asleep thinking only of thoughts of protecting Solas.


	19. Every Breath We Drew Was Hallelujah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos and sheesh! You sweet people. I'm really feeling this chapter. I have to say writing it was very fun and I thought after all the drama you guys needed some fluff (And smut! it's M rated for a reason<3) As always enjoy, you sweet sweet people! :)

Movement around her was what roused Ceirw from her light sleep. As her eyes took moments to adjust, she felt the movement beside her. She did not need to be fully awake to click that it was Solas sitting up in the bed. As if splashed by cold water and awoken, she shot upright.Her sudden action only startling Solas a little. Her worried eyes looked over Solas' form. He sat beside her in the bed, his face etched in confusion. Over all he looked healthier and Ceirw was thankful for it. There was some colour to his cheeks that had been lost in the previous night and many of the bruises had been healed by his slumber. She could see his eyes narrowing on himself, then the bed and then Ceirw as if trying to piece together what had happened. When his stormy blues finally fell on the bowl of bloodied water, the penny dropped.

"Thank you." Were the first words Solas spoke. He turned fully to Ceirw with genuine gratitude in eyes. It was all she could do not to shake her head.

"Don't mention it." Ceirw replied gently. Seeing him alive and safe was the most important thing.

"I thought you were dead. How did--" Solas started and Ceirw raised her hand in a flimsy, laid-back manner to stop him.

"You should rest." She hushed and hesitantly pulled her hand back down to her side. She had wanted more than anything to reach out and touch Solas comfortingly, but the memory of their night together and the words exchanged left a lot unsaid between the two. "Falon'Din came back for me. He saved my life and yours."

Solas took a moment to swallow Ceirw's words. The look in his eyes told her he had some trouble believing them. Given Solas and Falon'Din's shared past, she was hardly surprised. She could finally understand his hatred for the other god, but only wished he could see past his hatred and find the being Falon'Din was trying to be.

"It was not him who cleaned my wounds, I hope?" Solas asked after some thought and Ceirw laughed shaking her head, "I didn't think so. I have you alone to thank for that, at least." Whatever Solas was thinking, it made his lips curl into a smile.

"Solas, I'm sorry for everything." Said Ceirw. She did not want him to be so pleased, considering her action. She felt some guilt for calling him out into those woods. She had needed him and in return she could do little to be there for him.

"You're sorry, that you sought help from a god of death, whom you feared justly, to save my life?" Solas asked in an almost sarcastic voice, "Just to clarify, you risked your life to save mine, cleaned my wounds and then lay with me and you're apologising?"

"I put you in danger in the first place."

"I was already in danger with Anaris. I ventured into the void to seek out about time magic and he followed me back. I did try and come to your aid quicker but he would not allow it." Solas assured, reaching out and covering Ceirw's hand with his own. She did not realise but absent-mindedly she had been thumbing over the bed-covers. It must have been nerves. This was the first time they had been alone since she fell asleep in his arms. Since then she had almost had him killed twice and almost killed herself.

"Oh, so not only did I put you in danger with Andruil, I put you in danger with Anaris too. Thank you for clearing that up." Ceirw sighed and despite the comfort of Solas' hand, she pulled both her hands to her face; rubbing her eyes with the base of her palms. Fully awakening and removing all sleep from them. "I wish I never came here."

"I'm glad you did." Solas replied simply. "It's been educational."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Solas went quiet. A tense silence filled the room and Ceirw decided the conversation was over. For all she cared about Solas, she had royally fucked up his life from the moment she landed in Sylaise's trophy room. She pulled a smile on to her face and moved to stand from the bed. With surprisingly good reflexes, considering his state the previous night, Solas' fingers shot out and circled around her wrist.

"Wait." He said in smooth voice, and Ceirw turned to find him staring at her. She could not detect the tone in his voice or what his face conveyed. "I'd like to talk."

"....Then talk." Ceirw replied, looking over the man expectantly.

"Not here. Just. Permit me?" He begged.

"Permit you to do what?" Her question drew and sly smirk on his lips and Ceirw's curiosity began getting the better of her. Whatever it was, she wanted to know and clearly Solas wanted her to be surprised. Last time he smirked at her like that she ended up naked on his throne. She was adamant that was not the case in this scenario. Solas wanted to talk.

"Okay. I permit you t--" Ceirw did not get to finish her sentence as she fell, face first into the bedding unconscious.

 

* * *

 

 

With a blink, Ceirw's eyes opened up, revealing Haven. It wasn't a far stretch to realise that it wasn't Haven at all. It was the fade and she did not truly stand outside Solas' cabin, she did not truly stand at all. Still, the familiarity of the world around her made the elf smile. For whatever reason, Solas wanted to bring her here. She assumed it was to thank her for all she had done for him. Truly she did not feel like she did anything noteworthy, but she would not ignore his thanks. Especially as it came in such a kind form. Haven. She missed the place. Never was she a large fan of snow, but beneath her feet now it was a welcome feeling.

Lavellan's amber eyes fell to the door of Solas' cabin as it opened and at the other side Solas stood. He was clad in all his Haven cloth. The cream tunic that flowed over his sculpted body and the jawbone necklace clashing against it beautifully. With his hair now cut, he was the perfect picture of wisdom standing before her in the door way. She stepped forward and Solas moved aside to let her in.

The little wooden cabin was just as she recalled it. Fire burning, bed in the corner. Two chairs and a mountain of books in every corner. The huts in Haven were never luxurious, but that didn't matter to Lavellan. She was used to sleeping outside before that. Just having furniture was enough of a luxury to her.

"You wanted to talk?" Ceirw asked, moving to sit in one of the seats. Despite the peculiarity of his gesture in bringing her here, it made the corner of her lips tug upward into a smile.

"I wanted to tell you how beautiful you are." Solas said matter of factly. The words caught her so off-guard that Ceirw almost fell out of the seat, she barely had perched in. She turned to look at Solas and he circled the chair she was settled in. He kept moving until he took the other seat next to hers. Perching on the edge and leaning forward so the space between them was minimal.

"Thank you, Solas." Ceirw managed to reply after the initial shock of his statement passed, fading only into confusing. "I don't understand why you had to bring me here, though."

"It is complication. I'm sure you're aware, I'm not just a man. Nor am I a spirit...but that does not mean I do not have one." He answered only adding to her confusion. "Here in the beyond, I can be my true self and you can be yours and I wanted..."

Ceirw waited but the words never came. "Solas?"

"I wanted to look upon you in a world where we are equals. I wanted to look solely on your spirit and feel the energy you emit. Things have always been easier for me in the fade and I thought this might be easier too." Solas pulled himself to stand and instinctively Ceirw did the same. With only inches between them, she searched Solas' eyes for some clue as to what he was trying to say. "You blame yourself for what you've put me through and yet here you stand bearing the mark of my mistakes on your hand. I am the reason any of this has happened. I am the one to blame. You have been strong and marvellous and you saved my life. I know you say Falon'Din helped but that's only because it benefited you. No one has ever cared about me so...You're just... and..."

Ceirw tilted her head, her eyes locked with Solas' as he spoke so freely. His words pulled small smiles on her face and she could not deny the blush creeping up her cheeks.

"...And?"

"I love you, my heart." The words tumbled out of Solas' lips and butterflies twisted in Lavellan's stomach. Without warning he pulled her into a passionate kiss and she all but melted into the feeling of his lips. The very lips that had just professed their love for her. In an instant she realised what Solas meant about feeling energy. As they kissed she could feel the overwhelming power of both their souls urging against each other. Here in the fade they were bare to each other, pulled from everyone else.

Solas pulled back from the kiss to gaze down at Ceirw, but she wasn't done. The feeling that came with feeling his lips brush hers in the fade was overwhelming. Perhaps it was knowing how exposed he was being, with both his heart and soul. Or perhaps it was knowing that although he may not have returned her love that night on the throne he now did. Her lips grazed his again and again. She did not pull back until she was breathless.

"Thank you." Was Ceirw's eventual reply and Solas had the good sense to snort a laugh.

His gentle fingers caressed her face and she shut her eyes just enjoying the feeling of his touch. When her eyes opened, she could not help but look towards the bed. She wanted him in every possible way. If it were able, she'd happily have her spirit merge with his. She wasn't sure if that was too presumptuous. He had confessed his love, something she hadn't imagined to hear and Ceirw wanted to physically express the feelings she could not speak.

"Solas would it be weird if I asked to?..." She inclined her head to the bed and he repeated his snort of laughter, this time softer.

"Not at all."

Solas' strong arms wrapped around Lavellan's body and hiked her up against him. In turn, she wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried to the bed. With each step she attacked his neck with kisses. Tasting the sweet and strange energy that pressing her lips to his skin, did in the fade. She could not mark him like he had her, at least they would not show in the real world, but she wanted to try.

Solas gracefully placed Ceirw on the bed and stole a quick kiss from her lips as he pulled back. He began removing his clothes and as she sat upright on the bed, she did the same. When neither of them wore anything else, Solas bore down upon her once more. His lips pulsed with energy as they pressed to hers and Ceirw moaned into his mouth as Solas palmed her breast.

To Ceirw his touch was like vibrations. Everything was so energy filled, she refused to believe they weren't attracting demons with this act. Her bare body arched up into his touch and she could feel his erection pressing to her hip. Taking Solas' lower lips between her, Ceirw sucked harshly, tasting him, wanting him. All the while reaching down between them and circling her slender fingers around his member. To her satisfaction, Solas growled out a moan into her lips as she began pumping her hand up and down his shaft.

Every lingering touch his hands made or movement his mouth made, had her feeling dizzy. His finger tips tingled a trail down her stomach, caressing over the lithe muscles there. His other hand still palmed at her breast and she sighed contently. The way his thumb flicked over one of her nipples made her sure he was using lightning magic to send playful jolts over the rosy flesh. Solas' hand urged his hand lower and kneaded over the top of her sensitive folds.

To her surprise he sparked vibrations on her sex and she bucked upwards, letting out a gasp at the sensations. She replied by teasing Solas' tip over her now wet folds. When the feeling became too much for him, the man let out a groan of "Ceirw...I want you." It was all she could do to concede his request, positioning him at her entrance. Gently, he lowered in to her and the whole world might as well have stopped.

He let her adjust to him and then moved at a gentle, slow pace. Every movement was languid, soft. Ceirw had never made love so gently in all her life and never had anything so gentle felt so intense. Solas' body shaping to hers was like an intense heat. Logically she knew it wasn't real but it was the most real thing she had ever felt. It had the intensity of a sex dream but the raw emotion behind the actions, the concious choice between them both made it all the more perfect.

As they moved with each other, Ceirw was brought to her climax and let out a moan sheer ecstasy. For a second, if only a second she did not see Solas as anything else but her soul mate. The imagery of the fade around them flickered with vigour and all at once she was blinded by pure white light. Solas was not far behind her and as she rode out her orgasm she 'felt' his. For those few seconds in the fade, both of them clung to each other exposed fully.

Solas' lips brushed hers once more as she shuddered beneath him. When both of them had caught his breath he whispered sweetly, " We, should wake up."

 

* * *

 

 

And she did. All it took was his words and she awoke laying on the bed in the onyx chamber. A cold sweat sheeted freshly over her skin and there was a wet pool of heat between her legs. She had in the past awoken from dreams in similar situations, but usually she awoke flushed, in this scenario she awoke feeling sated. With heavy eye-lids she looked over to Solas, whom lay breathless at her side. Having removed his robes in order to clean him, Ceirw could see plainly that he had made quite a mess of his undergarments also.

She flickered her gaze up through her lashes to look at Solas, only to find his eyes adoringly staring over her. There was a pain to them that she could not fathom, but she focused on the love, knowing that she must be returning the same doe eye'd look to him.

"That was...I've never done anything like that before." Lavellan breathed out to Solas, who gave a light chuckle.

"I am hardly surprised." He let his head fall backwards on the pillow and Ceirw wriggled closer to him. She gently lay her head on Solas' chest and idly swirled patterns over his torso. Watching as his heavy breathing slowed.

"Have you done that before?" Ceirw asked curiously.

"I have sought out physical company in the beyond before." Solas replied honestly, "Expressing love to someone, no. That, I have never done before."

His words were so matter of fact that Ceirw could hardly believe it. He lay there beneath her and so openly expressed loved for her. Openly admitted that, that was what they shared. "What changed that made this time any different from the first?" Ceirw asked further. She was not about to pretend that when she told Solas she loved him not so long ago, that he either did not return the feeling or was not sure.

Some thoughtful silence passed.

"I thought you were dead." Solas whispered back, reaching down and tenderly stroking Lavellan's hair. "You had been so kind to me, so brave, and fascinating. I was tied to that tree and all I could think about was failing you. Knowing that the kindest, bravest being I had ever met was dead, it made me realise how very important you are."

Ceirw listened to Solas words with a heavy heart. He painted her in such a vibrant light. Implying she was some shining knight, when really all she thought of herself was an elf in the wrong place at the wrong time. In many ways it would seem.

"I love you, Fen'Harel."

"Please call me Solas." He whispered back gently.

"I love you, Solas."

"I love you too, Ceirw Lavellan."


	20. No Rest For The Wicked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short little chapter, I hope it doesn't feel too much like filler, but I felt like it was important that I wrote this. The next chapter should be longer and more DUN DUN DUN Dramatic. Big things are coming ;) 
> 
> P.S I apologise for not updating, but it should be known I'm always very very busy with College Monday - Wednesday. So don't expect updates on those days <3
> 
> P.P.S All this support. Wow. You guys are friggin' ridiculous <3

For what felt like the longest time, Lavellan lay in Solas' arms. There was an undeniable comfort to having the cosmic energy that is The Dread Wolf wrapped around you. The Inquisition still begged her attention and history begged his, but for a stolen moment she was held in his arms and Ceirw forgot about everything else.

Moving only became an issue when her stomach began to growl. She couldn't place the last time she'd eaten and her body would do her no favours if she ignored it. Solas must have been hungry too, the both of them had been injured considerably. Overhearing the on-going growls, Ceirw placed an annoyed hand over her stomach and whined. At first Solas made to move but Ceirw shook her head. She gave him a very smug look and pushed him flat-back onto the bed. His face showed his confusion and Ceirw raised a brow in challenge.

"You're supposed to be resting; I know where the pantry is." Ceirw assured as she backed away from Solas' comfort and stepped off the bed. Never once allowing her eyes to pull from the sight of there. Sprawled back on the mattress with a cocky and amused grin on his lips. She adored seeing a younger, smirky, Solas. The Solas she knew often looked so sad.

"Yes, Ma'am." Solas replied with a wolfish grin, his blue eyes wandering over Ceirw in a very appraising manner. The look he gave her had Ceirw absent-mindedly biting down on her lip. "Am I least permitted to wash whilst your away or would you like to do that too?"

She knew very well that he was goading her into blushing and getting flustered. The words affected her differently than she expected. Sexually, she was always quite confident, her only strain with Solas was the power dynamic, but it was clear that didn't matter. Still she could not return a smirk, because the idea of bathing intimately with Solas was sweeter than Ceirw anticipated. She wasn't sure how long she stood with her mouth open in a grin, but it was long enough that Solas looked slightly victorious. "A very promising prospect, but on this occasion I'll have to pass." Romantic bathing was all well and good, but she hadn't eaten in what must have been a day and after their shared 'dream', Solas was in a fair need of being cleaned.

Ceirw finally pulled her eyes from Solas' smug as shit, grin and exited the room.

 

* * *

 

 

She found the pantry once more with no trouble. It occurred to her when she was in there that she didn't really know what Solas liked to eat. She was also hardly a cook herself. She settled on something simple. Bread and cheese. Looking in the many cupboards for a plate, Ceirw stumbled upon a jar of tea. That was surly the jackpot right there. She loved tea and it had been over a month since she'd tasted a drop. She put some water on to boil and made up a plate of the bread and cheese.

When Ceirw returned, Solas was sat in a chair in the room. In the time it had taken her to fetch bread, cheese and tea. He had gotten up, washed, made the bed, and sat down looking immaculate. If he still had hair, she'd bet it wouldn't be a strand out of place. Ceirw placed the tray down on the table and slipped into a seat at the other side. It was strange to her, how comfortable she felt around him in the short time they'd known each other. Well, known each other honestly. Despite everything, falling into comfort with Solas was like falling asleep.

"I should have guessed you'd look into the other rooms sooner or later." Solas' sounded so endeared that Ceirw looked up from the tray of food to smile at him. A smile that was returned, if only slightly.

"When Falon'Din and I brought you back here, I looked for your bedroom, but obviously it's locked." Ceirw said with a shrug and reached for a mug of the tea. It was a small white lie. She had originally found the pantry in her boredom whilst Solas was out being beaten by Anaris. He didn't need to know that, of course.

"This is my bedroom, actually." Solas said matter of factly, breaking off a bit of bread. "I live alone, why would I have two rooms?" He added popping the bread into his mouth. Ceirw was taken aback by his answer. It made perfect sense and yet she hadn't made any connection. After all, he gave her this room so willingly.

"You've been sleeping on your throne this whole time?" Ceirw asked in shock and Solas simply nodded. "Why?"

"It was not my original intent. When you first arrived I left you in the empty room with the illusion." Ceirw certainly remembered that. She had thought it was a cave opening. Waking up there felt like so long ago now. She could almost still smell the rain. "Then, you told me your story and I thought..."

"What?" Ceirw asked genuinely curious and scrunching her face up. She distracted herself with a piece of cheese and ignored the look of inner turmoil on Solas face. Clearly being honest and open was new to him and she wasn't about to push it.

"...You made me so angry with your utter disobedience and attack." The word attack all but made Ceirw choke on her cheese. She had very much intended to turn him into an icicle that day. "I considered doing abhorrent things, then I thought, what if I could use you? What if in the future I needed you, I could manipulate you or seduce you..."

When Ceirw looked up, Solas was the one looking away. She could not fault his cunning. Thinking back, she recalled the words they had exchanged back then.

 

 

> _"I will find a way to put you back where you belong."_   
>  _"Why? Why would you do that?" Ceirw replied suspiciously._   
>  _"You spoke of me in the future. If I have yet to kill you there, it is clearly because I need you."_

 

"When did it stop being a trick... I mean, it has stopped?" Ceirw asked, regretting the latter words as soon as she said them.

"Of course it has. What we have, whatever this is, is real." Solas swore back, immediately bringing his eyes back up to Ceirw's. "As for when the gimmick stopped. I cannot give an adequate answer. You stood up to Andruil and even then as I cleaned your arrow wound I felt such admiration for you. You're remarkably brave, I've never seen anyone stand up so strongly for what they believe in. Then I saw you bathing and I...I convinced myself that I was becoming too attached, I tried to...I convinced myself you were a tool to annoy Andruil and gain something from in the future. I was ashamed of what I was feeling."

"Oh I get it." Ceirw breathed back, frowning a little into her tea cup. "You're ashamed for wanting me."

"No, that's not it." Solas retorted quickly, reaching out to put his hand over Ceirw's that held her cup. "When we got to the dance, I saw you with Falon'Din and I knew I was lost. You looked so gentle on the dance floor and I thought of all the things Falon'Din had done in the past. I have seen him harm elves in ways your nightmares cannot imagine and the thought of him doing that to you...it frightened me. If I was ashamed, it was because I was endangering you with my interest."

Ceirw thought back. She hadn't realised that Solas was developing feelings even then. She had no idea what thoughts were on his mind at the dance, when she was so busy focused on her own. When she was dancing with Falon'Din, she remembered Solas' interruption and how flirtatious he had been about it.

"So, when I accused you of using me to make Andruil jealous?..." Ceirw pondered out loud, meeting Solas eye.

"It was not for Andruil's sake. When I said 'I didn't mean to use you' I meant it. I am sorry I ever considered it and I will never treat you as anything else but equal. I promise, my heart." Solas' warm and linger touch, stroked up Ceirw's arm, in light caresses over her wrist.

"It's very hard to stay mad at you when you say things like that." Ceirw laughed back, the laughter muffling the crack in her voice. Solas confession was unexpected.

"I can't fathom what you see in me." Solas replied honestly, shaking his head. Ceirw could list a great many things, but she had no chance. Solas reached for his tea and took one sip and then started spitting it out back into the cup. "Is that...tea?"

"You don't like tea?" Ceirw retorted fighting a grin and failing. Solas' face twisted into disgust as he stared at the cups contents. As though it were somehow the teas fault for being there.

"I detest it. I am amazed you found any. I had only stored it for Mythal's visits." Solas replied. Ceirw watched as he dragged the roof of his tongue over the bottom of his teeth in some order to scrape the taste of tea from it. When his face scrunched up again, Ceirw could not hold back from laughing loudly.

"Oh, you think it's funny?" Solas asked feigning great offence.

Still laughing, Ceirw nodded. "A little."

"Tell me, my heart. Are you at all ticklish?"

Ceirw narrowed her eyes at Solas. No, he couldn't be serious. Solas was serious and dignified. They were both mature adults here. "You wouldn't..."

"Oh I'll give you something to laugh about."

Solas moved to get up from his chair and Ceirw all but bounced out of hers and made for the door with Solas in pursuit. She couldn't quite believe this was happening. As she ran into the main room, she called over her shoulder to Solas a semi-serious scolding, "You're supposed to be resting!"


	21. A Submissive Display

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I'm so sloppy with updates, but oh wow, all those bookmarks and subscribers and comments.. You guys are breathtaking. I am so honored it's unreal. I hope you guys like this chapter! Thank you in advance <3

Despite the closeness recent events had brought on between Solas and Ceirw, she could not push the thought from her mind that eventually they would need to be separated. He had been so sweet with his playfulness, but Solas was no expert at concealing his fatalistic outlook. Both herself and he knew it would only be a matter of days before Andruil awoke from her rest and they would need to deal with the consequences. Another worry was Ceirw's pro-longed stay in the past. She had to return to the future, and soon. People needed her there, the whole world was going to hell and Ceirw could not imagine the state it would end up in if she did not get back. That breach needed to be closed. Perhaps with Solas at her side, it might be fixed quicker. A fear that niggled at the back of her mind. Why had Solas' magic caused a breach? Why did he lie to her in the future? She hoped on returning things would be different. 

Loving Fen'Harel was no doubt the most stupid and foolish act she had ever done. It could not be helped, however. Of the two she considered herself luckiest. She would return to the future and he would be standing there in Redcliffe castle beside Dorian and Varric. It would be a matter of seconds before they re-united. For Solas it was different. He had thousands of years to wait. Part of her questioned if he would still love her after that. Forever was a long time and for someone as grande as a 'god', waiting for someone like her... Well, she would not fault him if he did not. Ceirw pushed the thoughts of how fleeting their romance might be from her mind. 

She had excused herself from Solas' company to bathe. It had come to her attention after the tickling that there was still clumps of her dried blood in her hair. She was not particularly vain, but even she drew the line there. In her grim thoughts of their future, Ceirw had let the bath water turn cold. She pulled herself from it's murkish depths and made down the stairs to get changed. 

 

Ceirw stepped out of the bathroom clad in the robes Solas had provided. When it came to outfits, she could not deny that the ancient elves and gods knew how to be extravagant. These robes were not so simple as the priestess robes she had been given previously. The under layer for this set was made of majorly chain mail. Atop the not so attractive chain mail was a beautiful green bodice that clung to her body perfectly. Her skirt, was made up of two layers, a bottom layer of green leaf-like curtains, topped with similar blue material. Finally, a deep red, padded leather, came as an accompanying belt that allowed her to holster a staff in the back. This wrapped around her waist, holding the whole ensemble together. It was frankly some of the finest armour she'd ever donned. 

Outside the bathroom, she found Solas sitting crossed legged on his throne, just where she left him. His own robes were not a far cry from her own. They shared the red and green tones, however he lacked the chainmail undercoat she wore. A sneaking suspicion in her told Ceirw her's came with one as 'added' protection. A sweet if not slightly patronising gesture. She also noted that Solas' robes had a deeper plummeting neckline than her own. That she would not complain about, seeing some more of Solas' chest was never a burden. Gracefull perched on his throne, he did not look up right away as she re-entered. He was holding his orb in his hands and the look on his face made Ceirw's stomach twist uneasily. He looked nervous. If Solas was nervous, it meant nothing good for her, she knew that much. His worried features were bathed in a acidic green light that poured from his orb.

"What's wrong." Ceirw asked in affectionate tone. Solas' grim features pulled into a mask of nonchalance as he looked up. Almost immediately his face fixed into a smile and Ceirw frowned at him. "I know something is wrong. You can tell me." 

"It is nothing." Solas assured setting the orb a side and standing up from his throne. He greeted Ceirw back to the room by placing two hands on each of her shoulders. As though his comforting touch might rest assure her worries. His soft lips tenderly kissed her forehead and that was apparently the end of it. 

"Not buying it, Solas." 

"You are wiser than I ever give you credit." Solas replied and Ceirw's face scrunched up. If he was trying to flatter her, then something most be seriously wrong. 

"Solas!" She demanded, reaching up and tracing the curves of is face. "What's wrong?" 

Solas sighed, dropping his head until both Ceirw's and his bumped. "I truly do not know. Something is wrong and I cannot explain how I know. It's a feeling. It's akin to anxiety, I truly cannot explain why or what, but I do not wish to venture into the fade and find out." 

"Ssssh." Ceirw hushed him gently, cradling Solas' face in her hands. She game him her most convincing, warming smile. Solas shut his eyes and just stood in the embrace as Ceirw continued, "Everything's going to be okay. We're safe here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. "

Solas breathed an airy chuckle against Ceirw's lips. Her words clearly touching that part of him that found her so amusing. "And how will you prevent that?"

"Anyway I have to." 

Their lips caressed over each others in a ghost of a kiss and then Solas pulled back. His face was filled with admiration and thanks and he reached down between both Ceirw and himself to take her hand. Her fingers slipped into his with ease and she looked him over cautiously, curious. 

"I want to show you something." He whispered tenderly and gently guided Ceirw to one of the rotunda's many doors. 

This door was the last remaining door that was a mystery to her. She knew the destinations of the others well enough, but this one had been locked. Solas had confirmed it was not his bedroom and so she could not begin to imagine what lay behind it. Whatever it held, he wanted to show her and her ever eager curiosity wanted to see. 

When the magical seal over the doorway broke and Solas pushed it open, Ceirw peered over his shoulder catch a glimpse of the room. At first, all she say was the 'sky' painted on the ceiling. All the other rooms she had seen had the night sky and stars on the roof. This one was different entirely. vibrant blues and yellows streaked across forming a sunny sky. The occasional splashes of white symboling clouds. 

Solas entered promptly and her obscured view became clear. The room was almost as beautiful as the sky painted above it. The first thing her eyes absorbed was the mass of colour. In every corner of the room there was noises of colour. When she looked closer, it became clear that the source was canvas upon canvas stacked upon each other. Boards of wood held paintings of wood. Even unfitted stain glass windows leaned against decored walls. Every one of them painted in different scenes. Solas lead Ceirw through the room to the opposite end.

As she stepped daintily behind, her eyes cast upon the interestingly designed paintings. One of the canvas stacked in front of others portrayed a grim scene. For whatever reason, this particular image caught her eye. She was not sure how old the painting was, but assumed it belonged to a time when war raged on. The canvas was splashed with scarlet blood-strokes and a scene of battle spread across a rotting field. It made Ceirw pause and wonder the things Solas had must have seen. How he managed to take even the darkest things of the waking world and paint them into something bitter sweet. 

As her eyes lingered, Solas watched her over his shoulder, gently urging her hand forward and to ignore the image. It was clear that was not why he had brought her here. She certainly held no interest in dwelling in dark paintings of the past and so tore her eyes away and followed Solas on. 

It became clear, exactly what Solas wished to show her. On a large life size canvas, against a purple backdrop of fade like swirls, Solas had painted Ceirw. It was a surreal thing to see. Though it was not perfectly realistic, there was a definite likeness. Solas had taken some 'creative' liberties and she assumed there was more symbolism in the image than she could ever see. Ceirw had only ever seen artwork of people in great stature. She had never seen any dalish elves depicted so beautifully. She'd wager Andrastate herself had never been painted so admiringly. 

Against the purple background, Ceirw was depicted in the black dress she wore to Andruil's ball. In place of the crystal horned crown she wore to the actual ball, Solas had painted huge golden antlers over her head in a halo. These were bot delicate or decorative, these antlers were fierce, sharp even. She also noticed her hand placement. both hands met in the center of the image and from them white paint dripped down the canvas, in what she could only assume represented ice. 

It came to Ceirw's attention that Solas was staring at her, gauging her reaction and when she pulled herself from the painting to look at him, she saw a strange vulnerability in his features. "It's...beautiful. Surreal but beautiful." Her eyes pulled from Solas once more back to the painting, 

"I could say the same thing about you." Solas replied with a smirk. 

"M'Hmmm... I bet you tell all the ladies that when you paint them." Ceirw retorted, chuckling lightly as she turned to look back at Solas, who was then grinning at her. 

"Well of course, but that doesn't make it any less true now." He teased. 

Ceirw ran her tongue over the front of her teeth, and gave Solas the most saucy look she could muster. "Sweet talker." 

Pulling the front of Solas' low cut robes, Ceirw pulled the man roughly towards her and attacked his mouth with her own. She clearly took him by surprise as he stumbled towards her, eyes wide. Slipping her tongue into Solas' mouth, she took triumph in that victory. She may not be able to paint stunning portraits, but she could certainly sweep him of his feet. Taking control of the kiss, Ceirw guided both Solas' body and her own against the wall. No easy task, seeing as most of it was covered in paintings. 

Still with the upper hand, Ceirw playfully bit Solas' lower lip and pulled back to look at the man whom she had pinned beneath her. As with any other time she had surprised him, he looked amused if not a little flustered. Ceirw's lips pulled down to feather kisses up Solas' jaw and up to his ear. She felt Solas' hands wrap around her waist and she bit down on his earlobe, drawing a choked moan from Solas. 

"Mmm, what's the matter Solas? You're looking a little flustered." She teased him, licking her tongue along his now flushed ear to the tip. He was always teasing her. Always so cocky, it was only fair she got a chance to knock him down a few pegs. His hot breath hit against her neck as she dominated Solas against the wall and her words drew no reply. 

"Yes, I dare say Dread Wolf. This submissive display is quite something." 

Solas tensed beneath Ceirw's touch and before she could comprehend the situation, he was pulling her from him and stepping from the wall. The source of the words came from the door way and Ceirw followed Solas' gaze to the the sight of a figure at the opposite end of the room. Dirthamen, God of Secrets stood under the marble archway that lead into the room. He looked very amused. A dark smirk spread across his pale face. 

"Get. Out." Solas hissed in a ice cold voice and Ceirw was suddenly very thankful for her armour. 

Unsurprisingly, Dirthamen stepped into the room confidently dismissing Solas' threat altogether. "Oh don't be like that, old friend. Shall I pin you to the wall? Will that make you feel better?" He laughed darkly and Ceirw would hear Solas' growl. She reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it did nothing to settle his increasing temper. 

"I bring news." Dirthamen continued. "As much as I would like mock you further on this, utterly hilarious display, Falon'Din sent me. My brother could not come himself as he is busy guiding Mythal." 

"Guiding Mythal where?" Ceirw asked as she felt Solas tense beneath her touch. 

"Your pet annoys me with her foolish questions, Fen'Harel." Dirthamen said matter of factly. 

"Excuse me!" Ceirw exclaimed stepping forward, and Solas did not move to stop her. Had she been paying better attention, she might have noticed his panic and sadness. 

"You're excused." Dirthamen said looking down on Ceirw as though she were nothing but a filthy cockroach. "As I was saying Fen'Harel...Mythal has been murdered." Ceirw's eye's widened in shock. Mythal...murdered?

"How do you murder a god?"

"Will you stop interrupting me, you insignificant little--" Dirthamen started, only to be cut off by Solas.

"Don't." He said to Dirthamen in a tone of warning and then turned to Ceirw, features and tone softening. "We are but spirits in vessels...Someone has physically ripped her immortal spirit from it's vessel....I take it they destroyed her vessel?" The latter question was directed at Dirthamen who nodded. 

"Elgar'nan does not yet know. When he does, I imagine there will be a massacre and then we will be called to court." Dirthamen commented and Ceirw watched Solas pale. 

"That meeting could last a century." Solas muttered and Dirthamen nodded, his superior smirk dropping from his face. Ceirw was struggling to come to grips with this whole scenario. 

"Which brings me to the next piece of business my brother asked of me." Dirthamen said and Solas looked suspicious. Despite her own thoughts, Ceirw pushed them aside to listen to the God Of Secrets. "I know how to get your chantress back to her own time." Wow. Ceirw had to hand it to him, that was a fitting title. 

"How did--" 

"Falon'Din informed me of what he knew. I do not know all the details." He replied to Ceirw and Solas stood quietly listening. "You do not belong here and with all the gods at court for what may be years, you will fester and die in this cave. If the dark ones do not come for you first. That is why it must be today you leave and I suggest we do it now." 

"You don't even like or know me, why on earth would you help?" Ceirw asked gobsmacked. This was all becoming too bizzare for her to handle. 

"My brother is guiding my friend into the beyond. If he asks a favour of me, I will grant it. I do not need to like it." 

"Dirthamen, we're wasting time." Solas' statement cut out before another one of Ceirw's questions could. "How does she return?" 

"Exactly where she came from. We must make haste to Sylaise's temple."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, the armor I described Ceirw wearing is the Ancient Elven Robes armor from Inquisition that is found in Sylasie's Temple during the Dirthamen's temple quest in the Exalted plains. If you don't know what armor that is, just google image 'Dragon age Ancient Elven Robes' and it'll come up <3
> 
> The next chapter is called 'The Return' Just so ya know *wink wink* Will try to update sunday night<3


	22. The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunday Night.... Monday morning. Same thing right? Anyways, this chapter was ridiculously hard to write, but I've planned from the start how I wanted this story to go and I guess, whilst it might disappoint some readers, this has always been the plan. 
> 
> The rest of the chapters will be following Solas' point of view. Seeing as the rest of the story takes place during Inquisition I thought a different perspective the inquisitor would be more interesting...also other reasons. 
> 
> P.S THANKS SO MUCH FOR YOUR KIND WORDS! <3

She was leaving. It felt like everything was perfect and she was leaving. Mythal was murdered. Ceirw had had many a clue that 'gods' could die, but never did she expect to be present in a realm where it actually happened. As she walked hurriedly through the realm of mirrors with Solas and Dirthamen, she could not help but cast a worried glance his way. He had said no more than two words to her when they had packed her things. Now he silently strode by her side looking the definition of melancholy. With Dirthamen some feet ahead and utterly oblivious to their pain, Ceirw stole closer to Solas' side. 

Shaky fingers wrapped around her own as she clasped Solas hand, causing him to catch her eye. He looked undeniably sad and she couldn't deny that she too mirrored those feelings. She knew ultimately she was being selfish. She would see Solas in seconds and he would have to wait much longer. Solas had a dark future ahead of him. Not only was she leaving him, his friend was murdered, Andruil would still react to him, the Shemlen would come and he would betray the gods. To be upset about leaving Solas now, would be beyond selfish. So she smiled at him, softly, warmly. With all the love and affection she felt for the complicated and troubled spirit beside her. 

"I love you." Ceirw whispered, comfortingly stroking her thumb over Solas' hand, and forever consistent with that loving smile. 

Her words only seemed to trouble Solas more, whilst his mouth pulled into a smile, his eyes darkened and he had to look away as he returned the words. "I love you too, my heart." 

From that moment onward he was silent as they walked to Sylaise's mirror. Ceirw could hear each empty footfall on the ground as the three of them stepped towards it. Dirthamen went in first, with no hesitation or foreword to either of them. Solas moved to go in second but Ceirw could not simply let him pull away from her so easily. These may very well be the last moments they get alone and she did not want either of them to be silent. 

"Solas... Fen'Harel. It's going to be okay." 

Solas paused, turning back to Ceirw and looking her over woefully. "I wish you wouldn't call me that." 

"I know. I just wanted to remind you that I know exactly who you are and I love you anyway." She assured with her forced selfless smile. "When you first meet me in the future I'm not going to know that. So, I need you to." 

"Thank you." 

Solas' words were matter of fact as he disappeared behind the eluvian. 

 

Once inside Sylaise's temple, Ceirw was instructed to change and quickly. Solas said it was something about not gaining more questions than necessary when she reappeared back in Redcliffe. The less people knew about her location the better. With that she could not agree more. Still she was sad to see her robes go. They were beautiful and they would be lost to time. No doubt worn by some shemlen or destroyed by them. She placed the ancient elven robes on to a ledge in the dark corner she changed in. Solas and Dirthamen had gone to distract Sylaise and her followers. When she was ready, she was instructed to get to the trophy room. 

With a lingering trace over the material of her new... or rather old robes, Ceirw turned from them and hurriedly went down the corridors, opening several doors to see which of them held the infamous trophy room. She was having trouble and losing hope when she saw Solas appear at the end of the corridor she stood in. He motioned for her to follow him and she did so. He knew temple far better than she after all. 

Ceirw caught up with Solas and found him waiting outside a large oak door. When she drew closer, Solas pressed the door open and allowed her to enter first. He followed after her and shut the door quietly. Despite having always felt comfortable around Solas, and more so then than ever, Ceirw could have cut the tension in that room with a knife. Solas lay a gentle hand on Ceirw's arm and guiding her, walked with Ceirw through the trophy room. As they walked the hand on Ceirw's arm caressed down to her wrist and once more held her hand. Solas' fingers clung to her so longingly it made her heart race. They made silent steps to the spot where Ceirw arrived in this world. It was a space on the floor just in front of a large, stuffed, black wolf-like beast. Memories flooded back of when they first met there. Well, when he first met her. He grabbed her hand and the way he tried to pull the magic from it hurt so bad, the pain made her black out. Now he held her hand so gently, she could scarcely believe him the same man. 

"I wish I didn't have to go." She uttered and the pain she felt in her chest cracked her voice. 

"It will be instantaneous." 

"Not for you." Her words were coming out in intimate breaths as she drew closer to Solas. "I know it's selfish to ask... Promise you won't forget me. Please. I would never force you to love me after all that time, but please don't forget me Solas." The words she spoke brought tears to her eyes and Solas moved to wipe them. 

"I promise..." 

"Good, because I love you. I know it's all been so sudden, but I do and I will love you when I walk back into Redcliffe."

"... No you won't." Solas replied and Ceirw looked up confused. His whole face was etched with guilt. Her eyebrows knitted together and she titled her head, trying to fathom what Solas meant by that. 

"Solas?..."

"I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you." He said trying to convince himself of that as much as her. Ceirw was beginning to see that the sadness and the strange tension she felt from Solas might not be over her leaving. "I can't let you remember any of this. It puts you in a position of vulnerability and possible danger in world that I don't know."

"You're wrong!" Ceirw gasped not believing what she was hearing. 

"No, I am not. Not in this." 

Solas brushed his thumb pad over Ceirw's quivering lips, her own fingers encircled around his wrist in a pleading manner. Saying goodbye was hard enough, but this, this was too much for anyone to handle. Her amber eyes searched Solas' for some answer, anything that might clue her into why he thought this was for the best. 

"I am so very sorry." Solas breathed and she watched water well up in his eyes, they shone like glass as they took in the features of her face, but not once did they spill over. "In this world, we could be something; the man you know in the future may very well not be me. You have seen Falon'Din's change, I could be no different. From everything you have told me I am a cruel liar, a betrayer of my people...and I must also forget that. For I may never make those choices with that knowledge." 

"Solas." Ceirw choked out, her pride was not as strong as his, she allowed her sadness to pour down her cheeks in form of tears. "Solas, I love you. I don't want to forget you...and you, you promised not to forget me...please."

"I will never forget you. I could not. I will only forget the conversation we had of me betraying the gods. I will forget about the future. For I fear I will try to change it...and if I change it, I will never meet you. It's not safe for me to know about the future." Solas assured. "I will never forget meeting you. I will never forget our love. Only that one conversation and in time that memory will come back to me also."

"Will... will I remember you in time too? Is it all just temporary?" Ceirw asked hopeful and she could not help but press a tender kiss to Solas' thumb, which he in turn moved to brush the new tears on her cheeks. 

"No. I could not abuse you like that. If I am a monster in the future and you still love me, I might use that against you. I might use all of this against you. I do not want an upper hand on hurting you. I cannot allow that." 

"You're not abusing me, by letting me keep these memories. It's not manipulation, it's love." 

"In the future that may not be true. I might be a cruel god set to destroy the world and you, and to let your feelings cloud your judgement of me...feelings for a man that might not exist any more. That is to cruel for me to allow."

"Solas, I trust you." 

"I don't trust myself." He moved to pull away from Ceirw ashamed, but she held on to him. 

"You could be a good man." She replied pulling Solas closer and tighter. The idea of him leaving her now was far too much to bare. "Are you willing to risk what little we've had on the chance that you might hurt me?" 

"Yes..." Solas replied and for the first time Ceirw heard his voice break. "Please, don't let me hurt you. I lock all my friends away and my best friend has just died... I will not see her spirit again for thousands of years. Then I do this to you. I mark your hand, I destroy your world, I kill a conclave full of people and put a hole in the sky. Can't you see I'm a monster and this is for your own good?" 

Ceirw was silent. 

Solas wanted to protect her but in this she did not need protecting. There had to be a compromise. His words ultimately rang true. People change and in thousands of years Solas could too. Andruil was apparently kind until she lost her mind in the void. A place history told Ceirw, the dread wolf spent much time in. Perhaps Solas would change too. He would become evil, and malicious. Perhaps the reason he appeared in her life in the future was an attempt to stop her from preventing his plans. He would have the upper hand in knowing everything about her thanks to their meeting... It was perfect logic to believe him capable of such cruelties and yet Ceirw could not. She could not believe a man who fought against Falon'Din, a man who just wanted love from the people, could ever sink so low. Not the man she knew. 

"Solas...I know you only wish to help, but please see that for once in your life you're wrong... This isn't the a--" Ceirw's well thought words were broken off as she toppled into Solas' arms, both of them nearly falling to the ground. The ground that roared and shook beneath them. The feeling was akin to a might earthquake and Ceirw may have fell at the after quake if not for Solas' arms holding her tightly in place. 

"Elgar'nan must know of Mythal...I am so sorry my love and I hope in time you realise this was all for your own sake. We don't have time to debate the issue." Ceirw was torn, she had to stop Solas somehow, she couldn't forget this forever, but she did not want to leave him fighting. Desperately she pulled Solas' collar, till his lips reached her own. The whole world shaking around them was not enough to distract her from what very well may be their last kiss. She could feel Solas sadness and want as his lips hungrily took hers and in turn her's possessively claimed his. She did not pull apart from him, until she was sure she needed to gasp for air. 

"Solas. I'm not happy about this, but you put those memories somewhere I can find them. Keep them safe, so when I regain them in the future I can be sure to slap you for what an idiot you've become." The words came out in a half laugh, half sob and she watched as a single tear fell across Solas' cheek. Until then she had never truly seen him cry. 

"Thank you for understanding. I could not bare the idea of hurting you. I will give the memories to someone else to keep safe...in case. In case I'm wrong. I cannot be trusted with them, but someone else might be." 

"I wish you could see how foolish you're being..." Ceirw sighed, the time for arguing was over. She would regain those memories one day and Solas would get an earful from her when she did. 

Solas' hand's gently rested on Ceirw's head. She looked at him with pools of sadness and his orbs reflected her hurt. Lost in each other's eyes, Ceirw had not even noticed Solas' magic begin, she felt dizzy at first and slowly things began to slip from her...the last thing she could even begin to remember was the words, 'Ar lath ma, vhenan.' Though for whatever reason she could not remember why. 

 

 

An overwhelming sense of loss took her as Ceirw spiralled throw a smokescreen of green. For a few seconds every inch of her body was feather light, weightless in the vast nothingness as it propelled her forward through time. In what must have been a blink she felt bare feet crash against the stone floor of Redcliffe castle. Her body tipped forward and it seemed like she might fall, but in time she caught herself. 

What she experienced was something like a fade step. She wasn't sure what Alexius was trying to achieve, but she assumed he failed. She had expected him to strike her painfully, to attack her brutally and instead he made her step two feet through a green portal, only to walk out the other side a second later. Ceirw couldn't conceal the smirk that eagerly spread over her face. Alexius looked defeated, eyes creasing in confusion and arms falling limply to his side in acknowledgement of Ceirw's triumph. 

"Was that it? I half expected a fight from you, Alexius." Ceirw boasted perhaps a little too arrogantly. 

With King Alistair's exile of the mages in her company, Ceirw motioned for her party to move onward. They would need to arrange travel back to Skyhold and Ceirw intended to cover as much ground between Redcliffe and there as she could before nightfall. Whilst Dorian put on airs masking the shame he felt on behalf of his once friend, and Varric captivated Fiona with stories or jokes, Ceirw was left searching the crowd for another party member. Since the confrontation with Alexius, she had barely seen Solas and the more she thought on the matter, the more it occurred to her how oddly he'd been acting before their arrival in Redcliffe. 

"Solas, is something wrong? I thought the mages would make great allies, shouldn't you be happy? "

Solas' eyes looked tired. The eyes of a man who had not slept the previous night. Something Ceirw found peculiar, as Solas lived so often in dreams, more so than most people did. The sunken bags beneath his eyes, whilst noticeable were easily conceal by the crease of the mage's warm smile. 

"No, I am merely pleased that your confrontation with Alexius went so smoothly." He replied his aged voice. His words were always so precise and calculated.

"Then take a leaf from Varric's book and cheer up." Ceirw chuckled, playfully shoving Solas playfully. 

"Forgive me, Inquisitor. I had trouble sleeping and I now realise how foolish I've been." When the older elf returned Ceirw's smile, she thought no more of it as she left him to go catch up with Dorian.


	23. Her First Introduction, His Last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter was tricky to write. The next one will definitely be better, but there was a lot that needed established and I couldn't really glaze over it. As a writer it was pretty difficult switching up perspective and period and stuff, so I'm sorry if this chapter feels 'off' hopefully it's just an off premise that eases in to better upcoming chapters :) 
> 
> P.S Thank you for all the support as always! I honestly don't even know how to react. Thank you <3

At first the fatigue was unbearable. So long had he shut himself off from the waking world that being in it after so much time was exhausting. His orb was locked and he had not the energy to unlock. He considered trying, but then 'she' and her words came back into his mind. He awoke with all the memory of their time together. Part of him cursed himself. If he had not made himself forget, perhaps he would not have locked the gods away... and perhaps the elves of this world would not be so low. He'd robbed the elves so much, but it was for good reason. Now that reason seemed...uncalled for. The people had forgotten everything, they would not even listen to his tales in guise of a traveller. Still, the war between the 'gods' and forgotten ones was getting uncontrollable. He had to make a choice...even if it was a drastic one. 

The only way to unlock the gates to the gods was to unlock his orb, but he didn't trust himself, he needed to wait. Needed to gain all his strength. Ceirw said he caused damage and so Solas refrained from doing anything hasty. He could remember her words like they were yesterday. He spent a long time not thinking about them, but now he was awake and seeing the world without the gods, it was time to revisit the memories of his and Ceirw's time together. He had not been awake long in the new world when he began experiencing it's prejudices to elvhen, and sadly magi. Then the blight came and the elves needed him more than ever. It was during that time he found Mythal. At least her spirit, her new vessel of choice was...interesting. He never expected her to go for one of the quicklings. Whatever the quickling had done, had certainly gained Mythal's approval to warrant the bonding. To warrant her protection. After the cruelty Mythal had faced in the past, he was not going to judge her choices. He also did not tell Mythal he was unable to control his power, she did not need to know. All he informed her of was his intent to free the gods, in his time. They spoke sparingly after that.

Finding Corypheus seemed like - ironically - a god send. Solas thought that perhaps Corypheus could unlock his orb, and then the power would easily be restored back to Solas. He did not foresee Corypheus harnessing the energy. Nor could he imagine that he would use it to tear open the veil. He could only guess Corypheus' final objective but something must have gone wrong. What he could not know. 

All he did know was he had stop every demon from beyond the veil pouring into Thedas. This was the reason he was stood beside Cassandra Pentaghast. Seeker of the Chantry. Interrogator. Threatening force. Frankly, terrifying. She was leading him through the corridors towards the dungeon. He was not sure why, but after he explained his presence near the conclave and expertise in the fade, she seemed to have need of him. 

"Just how much do you know of the breach exactly?" Cassandra asked, her voice was laced in suspicion. 

"As much as anyone, I imagine." Solas replied collectedly, matching her footfalls as they stepped towards their destination. "I know that powerful magic has been used here, and what we're seeing is a tear in the veil. Magic so powerful it's ripped a hole between worlds. Truly, I have seen nothing like it." 

"Do you have any idea what caused it?" 

"No." Solas replied not missing a beat, lying easily. 

Cassandra opened the door and lead Solas inside. Behind the bars of cell, he could see at once two figures. One lay unconscious and the other appeared to be a healer, knelt by their side. As Solas and Cassandra approached it became instantly clear who the unconscious figure was. For a breath of a second he let his guard down his face contorted into something of utter shock. Aur'Ceirw Lavellan lay at his feet, caged and shackled. His eyes scanned over her face, drinking back in all her features. Her tanned skin, her golden hair. Her black painted lips, tipped into a small frown. The only thing he could not see was her eyes which lay shut. 

"Is something wrong, Solas?" Cassandra asked, looking over Solas' reaction with scrutiny. 

"No. I am merely in awe to see such magic at work." He inclined his head to indicate to Ceirw's hand. "I still do not see why you have brought me here." 

"The prisoner has done her damage but will not awaken. I need you to keep her awake long enough for questioning." 

"I can make no promises, Seeker. The magic here is unknown to me, but I will try." 

 

Studying the anchor did not take long at all. Studying Ceirw was different. He watched over her form as she slept. He could not tend to her as intimately as he would have liked. Cassandra and Leliana had guards stationed, watching them both constantly. The anchor too, proved difficult. Despite it being his own magic, he could not control it. It was under Ceirw's control more than it could ever be under his. It was part of her and it was consuming her.

As time passed he was going mad trying to prevent the mark growing; it was hopeless. Nothing he was doing was stopping the destruction. He could only assume that it would take re-connecting the mark with magic of it's own to control it. Sealing the breach would ultimately seal the mark. His theorising was driving him insane. In the past Ceirw had told him she was at Redcliffe looking for mages to seal the breach when she was transported back in time...but there in the cell Solas could not see how Ceirw would be alive to do that. If the breach wasn't sealed soon, she would be dead. It made no sense at all. 

Having Cassandra breathing down his neck was no help either. She was threatening him, she suspected something was wrong and he was sure it would not take long for her to figure out his part in this, to some extent at least. His saving grace was Cullen. Cullen appeared with Varric, a roguish dwarf and requested Solas' aid out on the field. Apparently things were not going so well, and though he hated to leave Ceirw as she lay dying, he knew deep down she would wake up. 

 

He should run. This wasn't his place. He didn't belong here. He and Varric had been out on the field battling for hours. The five scouts who fought alongside them had turned into one other scout. They were outnumbered and the breach was only getting bigger. He suspected Ceirw would be dead soon, if she were not already. Something had gone wrong, Ceirw was dying and for some reason she wasn't waking up. Cassandra would be here any minute. He would be dragged off and locked in a human cage. He would be nothing, not Fen'Harel, not even Solas. Just some apostate who showed up at the wrong place at the wrong time knowing more about a hole in the sky than he could possibly know. Or a worse scenario might arise. A paradox might destroy all of Thedas. If Ceirw was dead, then she could not meet him back in the past and then he could not be there in the present. The whole situation was maddening and keeping his composure was wearing thin on Solas. 

Another demon sprang from the rift and he shot an icy blast of magic at it. In days gone past he would have the darkened spirit destroyed with one blow, but without his full power he was as helpless as Varric. Varric was an admirable dwarf. He stood at Solas' side shooting arrow after arrow, from a frankly intelligent device that Solas himself would not have thought to create. 

As the monster he fought broke Solas' barrier the man's eyes shifted to left. He would have to run. Perhaps find Mythal and try to fix this mess. His blue eyes fell back onto the creature before him just in time to watch it fall back and burn up to dust, incinerated by a vicious bolt of lightning. His sharp eyes turned to Varric who put a final arrow into his demon, and for the first time since they started fighting the area was secure. With the rift still open, it would not last long. 

Then out of the corner of his eye, there she was. Panting breathlessly, hair askew and eyes full of questioning. For the first time in thousands of years he saw those beautiful golden eyes staring with wonder once more. They did not stare at him. They looked to the pulsing green tear in the veil behind him. It was a shock to the senses and he grabbed her wrist. 

"Quickly! Before more come through!" 

She moved with ease under his urgency as he pulled her arm up into the air, urging his...her, magic to connect with the manna in the rift. As he correctly thought, the magic shut the rift and prevented any more demons from entering. 

With the rift closed and his hand still on Ceirw's wrist he turned to her, just in time to watch her un-trustingly snatch her hand from his grasp. That was fair, but it still hurt. 

"What did you do?" Her voice was unsure and her golden eyes narrowed over him in slight suspicion. Behind her she could see Cassandra doing the same. 

"I did nothing. The credit is yours." 

Ceirw snorted and looked down at her hand, " Pffft, well then at least this is good for something." Solas had to bite the inside of his cheek not to smile at that remark. 

"Whatever magic opened that breach in the sky, also placed that mark upon your hand." He was attempting to be honest, but he didn't want to arouse too much suspicion with his knowledge. "I theorised the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the breaches wake-- and it seems I was correct." 

Cassandra took this moment to step forward. She was a figure that just oozed authority, if only she knew who she was talking to. Not that he'd hold it above the mortal. In time he had let go of many petty prides. Besides that, Cassandra seemed like a good woman, she just seemed very un-trusting. Not necessarily a bad trait. She asked if the mark could close the breach and Solas simply shrugged nonchalant. "Possibly." Definitely. 

As if unable to control himself he turned his eye back to Ceirw's and was pleased to find hers fixed, fascinated on him. Perhaps it was selfish of him to want her attention after all he had done, but she sparked something inside him and he found it hard not to act like a know it all. He was like a young lad showing off just to get her to look at him. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation." He said, and it was not until the words left his lips he realised how pretentious they sounded. 

"Good to know, here I thought we'd be ass deep in demons forever!" Varric chimed in, momentarily drawing Ceirw's attention from Solas. "Varric Tethras, Rouge, Story-teller and occasionally unwelcome tag along." 

Varric gave off a certain charm when he spoke, be it to ladies, men, or even apostate elves. Varric didn't need to hide beneath a disguise. He could be open with Ceirw, he could be charming, and he could be funny too. His wink to Cassandra was proof of that, proof that even children of the stone could surprise an old spirit like Solas. 

"Are you with the chantry or...?"

Ceirw's words were so sincere that Solas could not help but laugh. "Was that a serious question?" Anyone who met Varric for more than ten seconds could tell he was anything but a chantry brother. Solas got the distinct feeling that Varric was not the religious sort. 

As Varric and Cassandra argued, Solas stole a small moment to watch Ceirw watch them. The people she confessed to him so long ago that were her friends. They would become her friends. He would become her friend....and that's it. That's all he could let happen. She did not remember him and he...perhaps in different circumstances he would not love her. Oh but how he missed her. 

"It's good to meet you, Varric." She offered politely and Solas felt snorted, Solas couldn't believe how anyone was pleased to meet Varric. He may ooze charm, but in all the time he'd known the dwarf he'd shown admirable effort in pissing people off. Namely Cassandra.

"You may reconsider that stance in time." Solas interjected.

"Aww, I'm sure we'll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles." 

He opened his mouth to offer a retort but Cassandra and Varric were at it again. So he let out a sigh, a sigh that caught Ceirw's attention. She turned to him and gave an awkward half grin. She was clearly nervous and looking for some form of comfort in a fellow elf, so he offered with a small carefully friendly smile of his own. 

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions." Once more he could not stop himself from trying to impress her and found he was swaggering as he walked closer. "I am pleased to see you still live." Was that too formal? He didn't want too sound casual with her, he was supposed to be a stranger and yet here he was telling her glad he was she was alive. He was pleased to see her alive. It was a long time coming. 

"He means, ' I kept that mark from killing you while you slept." Solas found himself narrowing his eyes slightly in Varric's direction, but not for long as both Varric and Ceirw turned back to Solas. Ceirw now looking him over with more scrutiny and some admiration. 

"You seem to know a great deal about it all." There she was. Asking questions. Letting her curiosity show. Her curiosity was fascinating to him. He could not help but remember the time he awoke to find her in his study. Her back haunched over his table reading his memoirs. He was so angry but yet intrigued. That she had was willing to risk the wrath of what she then believed a god, all the for the sake of her own curious nature. 

With Cassandra's help, Solas re-spun his web of lies to Ceirw, told her that he was apostate like her and he was an expert in the fade. When the explanation and introductions were over, Cassandra decided it was time to move to the forward camp.

"I suppose I should thank you. You kept me alive, even if it is for the good of the many and not just myself. It was very commendable of you. 

"Thank you, it was simply the sensible thing to do." There was no sense in Ceirw ever dying. 

"Still, I appreciate it." She offered with a lopsided smile. Solas simply bowed his head and watched her turning away from him. There was a small guilt nagging at him, but he could not think about it now. They had to get to Leliana. 

From the first rift to the second there was constant fighting. Solas attempted to start conversation with Lavellan on the way, but found that that only caused more tension. 

"You're Dalish are you not?" He had learned lots of the Dalish since awakening. Little had Ceirw told him how arrogant and wrong they were. He expected elvhen, not children playing at history. For the sake of the people he tried to teach the Dalish of their wrong doings...they called him traitor and liar, and chased him from every camp he had been too. 

She turned to look at him, his question sparked a suspicion in her and he watched her fragile curiosity close up like a fan. "What do you know of the Dalish?" 

"I've came across them in my travels." 

"Well then, I'm sure you know enough to be careful." 

Solas snorted in a dry laugh, but said no further word on the matter. 

When given the choice, Solas watched as Ceirw opted to take the mountain pass in aid of the scouts. Personally he thought the charge may have been the faster option, but apparently, despite being a prisoner Ceirw was willing to risk her life for others. 

 

Arriving at the breach brought Solas some hope. Corypheus' mistake could be fixed here with his magic and Thedas would no longer be in torment. That was clearly too much to hope for. Instead he watched Ceirw Lavellan attempt to close the breach and the magic overpower her. He should have predicted that outcome. It appeared a paradox was too much to hope for. No matter what, Ceirw would not close the breach... at least not until after the events in Redcliffe. Solas would just need to watch how the cards fell until then. 

To her merit, he noted, Ceirw had enough will to temporarily pause the bleeding even if the 'wound' remained. As Solas' eyes shifted from the tear in the sky they watched Ceirw drop to the ground, unconscious. 

Solas made swiftly to Ceirw's side, crouching down to look over her as her body twitched in pain. It reminded him of that time in the woods in the outskirts of Arlathan, back when Andruil shot her. Like he did then, his hands cupped beneath her head. This time instead of looking at a wound in her chest, he was looking to her hand. His magic to his surprise had not overpowered her, she was gaining some control. She prevented it from consuming her, paused it's growing and pulsing. 

"What happened?" It was Cassandra's booming voice as she came to stand beside Solas, looking down on the two elves. 

"The mark worked to a degree. The breach has stopped growing and they are both stable for now." 

"Well that's certainly something, Seeker." Varric chimed in. "She alright, chuckles?" 

"Stable, but she has a fever. She needs medical attention and rest." 

Cassandra nodded and asked Solas to move out of the way to allow soldiers to carry Lavellan's body. She would be treated as a hero for what she did, and Solas could hardly blame the people for thinking so. Despite being a prisoner forced against her will, Ceirw eagerly worked with Cassandra and the rest of them to help close the breach. Solas found it very noble of her. 

With Ceirw being carried back to Haven, Solas thought it best he too return to the little town. Running now would not be fair and besides, he still had a mess to clean up. He would stay with Ceirw until the events of Redcliffe. Hopefully after that, the breach would be sealed and then... Well, only time would tell.


	24. Getting To Know You...Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, you people are wonderful though. 700+ Kudos. WHAT? I don't even understand. Just wow <3

Everything was confusing. The woman who lay before him was remarkable but he didn't truly know her and thanks to his mistakes she did not know him. Looking back it was perhaps foolhardy. He did not want to be able to manipulate her, it felt like a necessary precaution and yet, after everything, after all his time in succumbing to uthenera, he awoke to discover his intentions were never so cruel. Selfish perhaps, but his actions were not out of malice.

Part of Solas wished that he could return Ceirw her memories and explain everything...sadly that was not an option. He gave them to the only person he could trust not to manipulate her. Mythal. Mythal was one of his few remaining friends and she assured him, that she could keep those memories safe.

Perhaps it would be for the best if Lavellan never got those memories back. He had messed up her life enough and things might be better if she never knew what happened between them so many years ago. He himself was a changed man now and she may very well be different. He was sure in this life nothing would ever come to pass between them. It was for the best.

"Seems to me like she's going to be alright." Aidan the apothecary said and Solas looked away from Ceirw's sleeping form and to him. Solas gave a subtle nod and turned staff in hand.

"You are correct and she has you to thank for it." Solas stated simply.

"Hardly, The Maker is the one to thank here. Sending her in our hour of need. They say Andrastate herself delivered her from the heavens."

"Do they now?" Solas asked in a cool voice, it took all his effort not to break into a grin. How amusing it was to watch the people of Thedas come up with theories. Whilst he frowned upon the humans once more taking an elven gift in form of Ceirw and twisting it to fit their human ideals, he admired their faith. Something he hoped the elven people still had.

"That's what everyone is saying." He replied to Solas, gathering the last of his poultices and herbs back together. "In any case it's best we leave her to rest, right, elf?"

Solas narrowed his eyes, the gall this man would have and utter hypocrisy to call a Dalish elf his saviour, only to turn around and single out Solas for his race. Opting to be the bigger person Solas nodded his head stiffly. "Indeed."

Solas stepped out of the hut to be greeted by Cassandra. Never a dull moment it seemed. The tall warrior motioned for him to follow her and so he did so.

"If you're seeking a report, I'm afraid all I can tell you is she is resting." Solas offered, watching Cassandra as she strode by his side. She held herself high but not arrogantly so.

"No. Though I am glad to hear she is okay." Solas quirked a brow, but Cassandra made no further comment on her statement. "I wish to know if you have any insight on the breach. Why is it still there? Why didn't it work?"

Solas had been considering that himself. "I believe it's because she did not have enough power to seal it. She is but one mage, Cassandra. Given more support I believe it is possible."

"More support?"

"More magical strength on her side."

"So you believe a second attempt might succeed provided the mark has more power?"

"Yes. Where to find that, I leave in your capable hands, Seeker." Solas concluded.

Cassandra seemed to think his words over carefully. She nodded slowly to herself and it appeared he had convinced her.

"Very well, Solas. Thank you for all your efforts." Cassandra herself concluded in farewell. Offering Solas a tired and very small smile as she turned and walked away. Leaving him standing solely in the snow.

With Ceirw resting for what could be days, Solas turned to his hut.

 

* * *

 

 

Apparently 'The Herald Of Andrastate' was up and about, at least that it was Solas could decipher from the inane bubbling of chatter outside his hut. A small selfish part of him wanted to see her again. To talk with her awake. The sensible part of him knew this was rash. She would need to be briefed with Cassandra and the others, and he...he had stew bubbling on the fire.

Varric had invited him to eat with him, but Solas much preferred the solitude of his hut. Being out there with all those people. It was draining. He had to put up a shield and hide behind it. No one could know who or what he was and if they found out he would be dead. There was too many issues for him to fix to allow that to happen.

He ceased in the absent-minded stew stirring and stood from the fireplace. Perhaps catching some air wasn't the worst idea. With all the hustle around Haven, getting a good rest wasn't an option. He'd much prefer to be in the fade, conversing with his friends. The friends he didn't need to hide from or lie too. The only place he could be himself.  
As his bound feet crunched against the cold snow outside his doorstep, Solas looked up to find Ceirw Lavellan several feet away from him. Almost imediately, he straightened himself taller and closed the door behind him.

He couldn't be sure if she had come to visit him or if she was merely passing that way. Whichever reason, she now seemed unsure of how to approach him. His blue eyes locked onto her form and he knew she was watching him too. She looked better. In her beige robes, with combed hair. She clearly had been for a bath and re-applied the dark smudges around her eyes. Focusing on her face only drew Solas' eye's to June's vallaslin. After he wiped her memories he replaced it there. He took great comfort that she would be removed of it for a short time in the future, or rather the past.

"The chosen of Andrastate. A blessed hero, sent to save us all." Solas greeted with slight amusement. He did not want to appear stand-offish to her. Anyone else could dislike him and avoid him, but not her.

Ceirw smirked and combed a hand through her hair, clearly more at ease with his greeting. "Am I riding in on a shining steed?" She asked back playfully. Her footfalls coming to a stop about a foot and half from where Solas stood.

"I would have suggested a griffon, but sadly they're extinct." Solas replied to which Ceirw let out a short laugh. "Joke as you will..." He continued. "Posturing is necessary." For as amusing as it was, she was the peoples hero and if she stood a chance at closing the breach, she would need to accept that.

"Oh really?" She asked. "Why's that?"

"I’ve journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I’ve watched as hosts of spirits clash to re-enact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten... Every great war has its heroes. I’m just curious what kind you’ll be." Solas retorted. The truth was, he had waited thousands of years to see what kind of person Ceirw was in this world. His life did not revolve around her, but the facts were hard to deny. From the day he let her go, he often questioned what kind of person she was in world where he was the villain.

"The kind that woke up two hours ago and apparently stopped a breach from growing." Ceirw replied with a small chuckle at Solas' speech. "I'm more interested to hear about these dreams of lost civilizations."

"Ah well..." Solas' nostril twitched at the smell of something. Something smokey. It took him a moment to realise it was coming from inside his hut. His supposedly moment of catching air, had made him forget his stew was still on the fire. Burning by the smell of things. "I would inform you of my fade experiences but I do believe my stew is burning, Herald."

"Sounds to me like you're not interested in talking to me, Solas." Ceirw chuckled back as Solas reached behind him and pushed the door open. He didn't want her to think that, that's not what he meant at all.

"You are more than welcome to join me, that is assuming Cassandra can spare you for so long."

"What kind of saviour would I be if I didn't help you save your stew from burning?" Ceirw replied and stepped in after Solas.

He mentally blamed the sheen of sweat and flush on his face to the sudden heat of the inside of his hut, but deep down he had trouble denying that her confidence and humour wasn't having some effect on him. When they'd first met she'd been frustrated, furious and scared. The Ceirw Lavellan he was looking at now reminded him of glimpses he saw in the past. That brief moment where she lost herself and hugged him at the prospect of going to Andruil's hunt. It amused him to see her so careless. Happy. Even in a time of great struggle for her she seemed to be happy and he admired that.

Solas went to sit by the fire and stir the contents of the over bubbling stew pot and Ceirw took a seat across from him. It did not escape his knowledge that a very long time ago they sat in a similar scenario in the fade. Of course they didn't sit for long. His eye's briefly flickered to the bed and it took all of Solas force to bring them back to the stew pot.

"So." Solas stated, clearing his throat. "You wished to hear of my trips to the fade?"

"Only if you wish to tell them."

"I have laid down in many a ruin all around Thedas and experienced the histories there. I would not know where to begin." Solas replied and he flickered his gaze to Ceirw to find she was watching him intently. He never could gauge what was going through her mind. Which always led him looking like a fool watching her.

"Really? Isn't that, well dangerous?" She asked back, leaning her elbows on her thighs and listening more interested to Solas.

"I set up wards, and I find if you leave enough food out for the giant spiders they live and let live." Solas watched as Ceirw scrunched up her forehead in thought of his reply, but she maintained an amused smile regardless and he let slip a small one of his own.

"You're sort of funny aren't you?" Ceirw said back, jokingly prodding Solas' chest. The action taking him by so much surprise that he dropped his spoon into the bubbling pot of stew. He'd been serious and reserved for centuries and even in the past Ceirw so rarely joked with him. It had been a long time since anyone teased or for that manner touched him so brazenly. "Oh, I'm sorry are you alright, Solas?" Ceirw asked through a chuckle as Solas' hand jerked back from the splatters of hot stew his spoon made.

'I want to take you against the wall' is what Solas wanted to reply, his actual reply was a stiff nod. "Yes, forgive me, it was unexpected."

"I'll be sure and give you plenty of warning next time then." Ceirw laughed back Solas had to erase all the flirtatious subtext he was placing in her comment. Or perhaps she was flirtatious and always had been. They had met in much different circumstances before and...No. Solas refrained from physically shaking, but forced the thoughts out of his mind. "Although if you don't mind me saying, I've never heard of anyone delving so far into the fade before...it's extraordinary."

"Thank you." Solas replied composing himself and using another spoon to fetched the now steaming hot one from the stew pot. As he placed the spoon on the side he continued, "It's not a common field of study." Reaching for a bowl to fill with stew he smirked to Ceirw and concluded, "Not as flashy as throwing fire or lightning; the thrill of finding remnants of a thousand year old dream, I wouldn't trade it for anything."

As Solas passed the bowl of hot stew to Ceirw he looked over her. Sitting so calm and beautiful, eagerly listening to the knowledge he had to tell. There she was, literally the remnants of his thousand year old dream. "...I will stay then. At least until the breach has been sealed." He mumbled mostly to himself. It was a selfish thought but after thousands of years he was due that.

"Was that ever in doubt?" Ceirw asked him and he realised how off his words must have sounded. Catching himself he tore his blue eyes from her form and to the second bowl.

Grasping the bowl, he began to fill it somewhat on the defensive now that he'd let his words slip. "I am an apostate made surrounded by chantry forces and unlike you, I do not have a divine mark protecting me. Cassandra has been accommodating..." Solas pulled the bowl of stew back from the fire and into his lap, his eye fell back to the eagerly listening Ceirw and he added, "...but you understand my caution?"

"You came here to help Solas. I won't let them use that against you."

Solas snorted a small huff. "How would you stop them?"

"Anyway I had to." She replied matter of factly, giving Solas a friendly smile. A smile that took him by surprise. Her kindness was unexpected and yet it shouldn't have been. His thoughts drifted back a to a conversation they had the day Mythal was murdered.

> _"Ssssh." Ceirw hushed him gently, cradling Solas' face in her hands. She gave him her most convincing, warming smile. Solas shut his eyes and just stood in the embrace as Ceirw continued, "Everything's going to be okay. We're safe here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. "_
> 
> _Solas breathed an airy chuckle against Ceirw's lips. Her words clearly touching that part of him that found her so amusing. "And how will you prevent that?"_
> 
> _"Anyway I have to."_

Realising he was lost in thought, Solas looked up to find Ceirw still smiling at him and he returned her smile carefully. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Actually I was hoping to ask you for a favour. Cassandra wants me to go with her to The Hinterlands in search of a Mother Giselle, I think. I'm still very new to all this and I'd appreciate having another mage and elf by my side." Solas nodded along to her words as he began to take spoonfuls of his stew. It was a reasonable request. "I will be requesting Varric come too. You and him seemed to work well together in the valley."

"Consider your request granted." Solas agreed.

Closing the breach was going to be eventful indeed.


	25. Where The Druffalo Roam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry I've been slow on the updates...but it's Valentines weekend and so for the next few days I definitely plan to make it up to you ;) Once more, your encouragement is wonderful and I cannot thank you enough. :)

The Hinterlands, a vast majority of field and mountain. It had been days since they travelled from Haven. It was a good time for Solas to learn more about his puzzling travelling companions. Cassandra was constantly on guard, it was good for the group to have her. She was strong and a perfect tank. Every now and then she would reveal a softness...well, not to Varric. She seemed to be taken with Lavellan; Solas couldn't be sure if that was out of interrogating curiosity or genuine interest. Varric radiated charm and genuineness constantly. Lavellan had taken to him all bust instantly. They both shared a keen sense of humour. Which often led to them taking up the rear as Solas and Cassandra made sophisticated small talk.

When he and Cassandra were not talking on their travels, Solas would listen in to the ludicrous tales Varric disclosed to Ceirw. The child of the stone would boast about himself and Hawke. On the most recent occasion he overheard Ceirw laughing, clearly entertained by the tale of Hawke and the Arishok. A tale that both Cassandra and himself had listened in on. Whilst it was clear Ceirw and Varric were mildly amused, Solas noted Cassandra's slight awe. Solas would admit that duelling an Arishok of the Qun one to one was an impressive feat for a human mortal. A tale only made more amusing by Varric's exaggerations of Hawke throwing ice spells at the Arishok and running circles around the room, tossing smirks to Varric the whole while. When Varric made the suggestion it was like one large game of tag, Solas rolled his eyes.

As must as Solas loved hearing tales, Varric was at fault of one of his many pet peeves. So often did stories escalate into myth, when the reality was interesting enough. Varric was a storyteller and so it was his 'job' to give events a twist of fairytale, but it was fantastical twist like those that lead to future generations hearing things all wrong. Like the Dalish. The Dalish had so little knowledge of the elvhen, all because somewhere along the road people had got things wrong. Years into the Future, Hawke and Varric's tales would all be fantasy with small hints of truth at the centre. Though, from what Solas had learned of Varric that seemed to be what the dwarf wanted.

The laughter and jokes had somehow subsided and Solas found himself walking in stride with Ceirw. Their footfalls crunched on the soft green grass they stepped down the hillway. They had been on route to camp after meeting with Master Dennett about horses, but a job had apparently took Ceirw's attention. Something about recovering a lost druffalo. Nothing particularly dangerous, so Cassandra, Varric and himself agreed that they could spare some time to look for it.

Of all the jobs to take it seemed like the strangest. From what Solas knew of 'their herald', she was eager to help those in need. He remembered what she was like with that slave of Andruil's in the forest... what was his name? She had barely met the man and she was so willing to die for him. It should have came to no surprise that in the midst of the end of the world, Lavellan would go out of her way to find a druffalo.

"Are you with us, Solas?" Ceirw asked, breaking him from his thoughts entirely. Solas blinked several times and turned his head to look at Ceirw as they walked down towards the ravine. She looked slightly amused and he eye'd over where her lips twitched into a smile. It was evident she was getting used to her new companions and title. "You seem a little distant." She added offhandedly.

"I'm well, thank you." Solas replied. "I was merely questioning where I might be if I was a druffalo." His retort earned a melody of laughter from Ceirw and he watched as she shook her head, amused.

"Come up with anywhere conclusive?" She joked back.

"I'm afraid not, but I assure you, you'll be the first to know when I do."

"That would be very considerate of you." She chuckled back. Solas wasn't sure he had many memories of her being happy. Perhaps her trip back in time had had more of an affect on Ceirw than she let on back then.

"A raven came to camp this morning." Ceirw continued and Solas turned an interested ear her way, awaiting her to continue. "Now that we've secured the horses from Dennett, there's plans to go to Orlais and I was hoping you would considering coming. Cassandra's the strong leader we need and Varric makes the trip's fun, but I'd appreciate the company of another elf, particularly another mage."

"Of course, I'd be happy to accompany." Solas replied stoicly, forcefully keeping the smile off his face and out of his voice.

"Good. I'm starting to think, the four of us are making quite the tea--" Ceirw's wishful words were cut off by the sound of a sharp whistle.

The whistle in question resonated from Varric, who was calling th two elves over. As they approached Forannan Ravine to cross and search for the druffalo, Cassandra had been attacked by a spirit, summoned by a nearby rift. With no time to waste, Solas took a tight grip of his staff and ran onwards ahead.

He kept a notable distance as he set up barrier's around the team. As Varric and Ceirw dispatched into range, he focused on covering Cassandra's flanks as she attacked the demon's up close and personal.

The first wave was tiring but manageable. The quick appearing second wave of demons was relentless. Neither of them managed to catch and breath and Solas was already throwing up barriers once more. Varric and Ceirw were too far off to the left to be caught in his spell, but Cassandra was in the thick of battle and needed it more. As he covered by throwing spell after spell at the corrupted spirits, he noticed from the corner of his eye a ball of ice knocking Varric back.

His stormy blue orbs tore from Cassandra's shielded physique long enough to focus fully on Varric. He was far off left and Ceirw was even further. To leave Cassandra alone now would be unfair and foolish. "Varric requires help!" He called out to Ceirw as she narrowly avoided a blow from a one of the more tall and gangly demon's. It was evident by the look on her face she had heard his cry but at current could not rush to Varric's aid.

Back to his right, Solas heard a groan and turned to find that Cassandra's arm had be scratched deeply by one of the demon's, the barrier he had placed earlier falling down. Gathering his mana, Solas attempted to replace the magical shield. This was his downfall. So focused on covering Cassandra and aiding Varric, he did not see the creature approaching him. The same demon that had floored Varric now drifted toward's him a ghostly veil. It's hands bound together as it released a shock of ice against him sending Solas pummelling back on to the ground.

A flash of light blinded his eye's and a sharp pain struck down his head as he felt his bare skull crack against what he could only assume was a rock. The pain was agonising and it had been a darn long time since he had felt anything like it. Without the power of his magic and foci, he was useless as any mortal may be, and having protected Cassandra, he had no power left to shield nor heal himself.

The pain throbbed through his head in an ache as he felt warm blood dripped down his face and pool around his ear that pressed to the now soaking grass. " I'm hurt!" Solas growled out in what must have been only a whisper. It was pathetic, and wounded his pride, but he could take no shame in admitting it. He had to. He needed aid and the pain splitting his skull was too much to allow him to see, let alone stand.

The battle raged on around him and through out the noises and flashes of light, he could at least be sure one of their party was still alive and fighting. It was perhaps bad luck that they had stumbled upon this rift. The demon's were either particularly strong, or they were so unprepared. Either way, Solas was regretting the desicion to search for that druffalo.

His thoughts drifted as he faded in and out of conciousness. The last time he felt this bad, Andruil and Anaris had given him a beating. Oh those were days he didn't miss. He was almost sure when Anaris kicked him in the face that day in the wood he could taste bone.

 

> _"Anaris!" he cried out. "There's a flaw in her armour just above the hip!" His words sunk into Anaris first and by the time it took Andruil to comprehend that Solas was helping, she was tumbling to the ground. Anaris' sword pulling out of her hip. Solas watched with triumph in his eyes and if he could manage it a smirk on his face. Andruil had beaten him relentless. His original fight with Anaris left him so weak that when he went to face the huntress, she had the upper hand._
> 
> _"Thank you, Dread Wolf. I promise when ripping your soul from your vessel, I'll do it quickly." Anaris replied in mocking at his own victory. The victory that Solas helped win. The gall Anaris had made Solas sick. Admittedly that could just be the internal injuries Andruil had forced upon him. A few kicks to the stomach and torso by Andruil's golden armoured boots warranted a broken rib or two._
> 
> _Solas had to reason with Anaris. Had to get out of this somehow. Ceirw was dead. The woman who he was supposed to protect, the woman who may well change his future, the woman who claimed to love him for who and what he was. She was dead, having bled out in the woods and he, himself was beaten and broken. He had to get out the situation somehow._
> 
> _"I let you win that fight..." Solas tried to sound snarky, like the 'dread wolf' he was supposed to be, but he was weak and it showed. "You owe me a debt..an... and I demand you release me."_
> 
> _"How dare you! After killing my beast for one of those gods, you would have me spare you. You vile, repulsive snake!" Anaris' anger was warranted but he did not expect the god to be so hostile so quickly. He watched with wide eye's as the dark, muddy boot came closer and then eventually collided with his face. Not only could he hear his nose crunch, he felt it twist beneath the force of the kick, and then tasted copper as blood trickled down his face and throat. Focusing on that pain only made it easier to ignore the aching headache as his newly shaved head slammed back into the tree. He slumped forward, feeling unconsciousness about to take him and then.... Another slam of force from Anaris' boot and everything went black._

As Solas lay on the ground by the ravine, his vision blurry and unfocused, he recalled the memories. Locking Anaris in the abyss after that was a sweet and dark justice. It may have happened years after but at the time it made him giggle madly. That night, tied to the tree was undoubtedly the worst pain he'd felt. Physically and emotionally. Solas was beyond thankful to wake up the next day. In bed with Ceirw no less. Another twinge of pain, this time in his chest. She was undeniably strong and kind, even when he didn't deserve it.The moment they shared afterwards in the fade was just so...

Solas let out a sigh. As sweet as it was to think about her, he had to focus on other things... Like regaining his strength. With all his energy, Solas pulled up into a sitting position, feeling the warm river of his wound falling down his face. It took several blinks, but coming back to reality he noticed that only one demon remained. Cassandra had taken a beaten and Varric was still down. Closer to the rift, Ceirw was disrupting it, managing to prevent any more demon's entering for the moment.

Gathering all the god-like energy he had left in him, Solas let out a beam of ice in a wintry grasp. It was not so strong as he hoped, but it was enough of a distraction to allow Cassandra to decapitate the demon, removing it's head in a quick, clean swoop. This action was quickly followed with Ceirw closing the rift and as if all at once the inquisition's party seemed to collapse. Not literally of course, though that was not a far stretch for Solas. Varric remained unconscious, but Ceirw's shoulder slackened as she slumped down by his side to heal him. Cassandra made her way to Solas and offered him a lyrium potion, as well as a bandage to wrap around his head. To which he was thankful.

"The gash on your head looks nasty, Solas. We should head back to camp and have that seen to." Cassandra said in her matter of fact tone. Her face softened in the slightest, showing the underlying lingering of sympathy she had.

"That sounds like a good idea. I believe we could all do with some rest. Particularly, Varric. " He replied, standing up straight and leaning on his staff for balance. As he uncorked the lyrium and drank it, he was somewhat content in the knowledge he could at least heal himself a little.

It took a while, but a drowsy Varric was soon on his feet making wisecracks, and Ceirw looked relieved. Even Cassandra looked happier that they had all survived the attack. "Herald, back to camp?" She asked in a strained voice and Solas watched Ceirw nod as she approached them both.

As they began what felt like the suddenly much longer trip back to camp, Ceirw stole once more to Solas' side. He was a little embarrassed for his lack of control in the battle, but any of the four them would surly agree, they were not only outnumbered, but overpowered.

"Would you like me to heal that for you, Solas?" She asked in a comforting voice. She was perhaps aiming for sympathetic, but the pride-fuel arrogance in Solas took the empathy as patronising.

"It is fine, thank you, Lavellan." Solas replied in his neutral tone, inclining his pounding head in a thankful manner. When they returned to camp, he would be able to heal it himself.

"No skin off my nose." Ceirw chuckled in amusement, clearly noting his stubbornness.

Solas let out a sigh. He didn't mean to push her away. He was just unaccustomed to being so weak in front of so many people. Human's and dwarves among those people. He did not want to be arrogant.

"I'm sorry." He retorted. "I am just not accustomed to people being so...friendly out with the fade. I appreciate the offer."

"Don't worry about it, Solas." Ceirw replied with a small smile, one that did nothing to conceal the sadness that then filled her eyes. "You're right to be suspicious, seeing as I'm the mage who walked out of the fade with no memory of how the divine died and the conclave blew up, I can't afford to be anything but friendly."

Solas flashed Ceirw a careful smile, deliberate that there be no pity in it. "You are wise to protect yourself with charisma. A trait you appear to share with our dwarven friend."

"Well, the bitter humour and wise words of guidance doesn't really work for us all." She teased back and Solas' careful smile twisted a little bigger. "Anyway, we better hurry back to camp. You need that healed and I need a drink before we get back to Haven."

"Indeed." Solas murmured. After which they both silently walked back to camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was dedicated to everyone who attempted the rift at Fornnan Ravine to early on in the game and got their ass whooped. Also for anyone who dueled the arishok in DA:II on Hard+ mode.


	26. Dwelling On Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A belated happy valentines day guys! The next two chapters will be much more exciting I assure you and I'm trying to get them up as fast as possible. Sadly, College is taking up the majority of my time at the moment. 
> 
> P.S I have sooo many comments to reply to and getting around to it is difficult. They mean a lot guys <3

> _"We should clean this place up." She muttered and Solas barely heard her. Ceirw's voice was soft as she tore her gaze away from him. He sat still on the floor with a playful smirk on his face. Around him his freshly cut hair spilled on the marble flooring and when Ceirw moved out of sight his eyes cast upon it. It was an intimate action. He had broken down before this mortal and she so willing catered to him. Out of kindness._
> 
> _The night after Andruil's ball she had tried to kiss him. He couldn't for so many reasons. She was not worth risking Andruil's punishment...but was she? This brave, kind soul. Her physical form was worthy, he had seen as much. Thanking her would be pleasant. The other gods need not know. It would be a one time affair._
> 
> _Quietly, Solas stood and turned. The air of intimacy was still between them, despite Ceirw turning away and focusing on the desk. He could only assume she did not initiate things as he spurned her last time. Not this time. As she neatly placed a stack of papers in a pile on the desk's surface, Solas moved behind her. He inhaled the smell of cool air from her hair. The walk from Mythal's festival had her smelling fresh.Wantonly, he kneaded her hips with his hands a leaned in to her. He heard her gasp and grinned as he urged her to spread herself on the table before him._
> 
> _He was never one to be touchy-feely, as it where. So with the opportunity at hand he caressed the curves of Ceirw's body as he moved to lift up the skirt of her robes. She was being notably quiet. Pulling up her robes he pressed his growing erection against her cloth covered rear. A sigh escaped her lips, but following it came protest._
> 
> _"Wait, Solas stop." She called to him and Solas froze in his movements. Almost immediately he let the robes fall back down and paused where he stood. His thoughts a jumble. Perhaps he'd read the signals wrong. The intimacy was perhaps one of friendship? Face contorting in shame for his action's he stepped back from Ceirw. He didn't mean to corner her, didn't mean to be forceful. In after thought he realised he shouldn't have done it. He would have to find a suitable way to apologise for harassing her so blatantly._
> 
> _"I am sorry. I thought this is what you wanted." He managed to reply. He tried to keep his voice even, but there was edge to it. He was clearly a mess in her eyes. He had broke down before her and now made a move to be with her._
> 
> _Leaving the room, Solas slapped his forehead and sighed. He was a fool. Of course she didn't want him. He was The Dread Wolf. The very one who had lied and cheated her and according to legend tricked and betrayed all the gods...not to mention ripped a hole in the sky. He placed himself on the throne and sat straight. He would not let his embarrassment affect the situation between them. He would also not appear threatening. The last thing he wanted was for Ceirw to be afraid of him, or in anyway feel guilty or manipulated._
> 
> _"Solas." Ceirw's voice echoed in the silent rotunda as she followed him through. He looked up to her face, watching the soft smile on her lips. His eyes flickered up to her golden ones and he listened for her to continue._
> 
> _"I appreciate you stopping, but I do want you. I just didn't want you like that." She said. The shock must have shown on his face. He was surprised... How could he not be, how could she want him? He was a mess and if Mythal's festival was anything to go by, no one wanted him. Not unless it was for a dark deed. Yet here she was, confessing her want for him. Golden eye's locked on to blue as she placed a knee on either side of him. Straddling his lap in the throne. Instinctively his hands came up to cup behind Ceirw and she looped her own around his neck. "If it's okay with you and it's what you want, could we try again?"_
> 
> _He looked at her then. The most kind and beautiful spirit he had ever met and she wanted him. He nodded softly and pushed forward til his lips met hers. They were soft and sweet and tasted of mulled wine and they pushed back eagerly._

 

"Thinking of fond memories?"

The voice tore Solas from the dream and the imagery of it in the fade crumbled around him. The mage turned ready to confront whoever had interrupted his private moment. Instead of an unwelcome intruder he found his friend. A spirit of wisdom. One that often too the form of an elven woman to make him feel more comfortable. His face softened at the sight of the spirit and he turned to the empty space in the fade where his memory once was.

"Yes." He said coolly. "I had not expected things to be so..."

"...Difficult?" The spirit's voice finished off and Solas nodded with a humourless laugh.

"Is it possible in centuries gone past that I have not moved on?"

"It is entierly possible." The spirit retorted in it's matter of fact voice as it's wisp pressed closer. "If you wish to continue revisiting your fondness, Solas. Say so and I shall leave."

His eye's lingered over the space in the fade that he had recently watched. He couldn't deny he was tempted to dwell on the past, but that would do him no good now. There were bigger things to worry about. Corypheus being one of them.

"No, my friend. It was was wise of you to intervene, dwelling on these thoughts will do me no good." He assured with a warm smile, turning to the spirit and giving them his full attention. Often in his pro-longed sleep he had sought out company and this spirit was one of them. Solas wasn't sure where he'd be without them. There was a time when he awoke to find the world changed. Seeing the elves and what had become of them...all because of him. It all but killed him. Wisdom was there for him then, teaching him, informing him that he had made the correct choice. The wisest at the time given the situation. He needed that.

Solas dragged himself from his thoughts. Too often in this dream had he let his mind slip back to the past. Slip back to things he could not change.

"My friend, there is one thing you could show me..." Solas commented idly.

"Yes?"

"What knowledge do you have of The Champion of Kirkwall?"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Solas spent the remainder of the night in the fade discussing how accurate Varric's tales were. To his surprise some were highly accurate...others not so much. It was a nice change of scenery from the darker thoughts that clouded his mind as of late. He could have stayed in the fade for hours more. He would have too, if not for the cackling that awoke him.

Shrill laughter forced Solas to wake up. Sitting up in his bedroll it became clear that the source of the noise was Varric and the group's new member Sera. Both of which were finding something hilarious and for whatever reason couldn't find it amusing away from his tent.  
As he was already awake, Solas decided he may as well join his companions at breakfast. With a groan and a yawn, he stretched his stiff joints out and stood up in the cramped tent. As he got dressed, every now and then his bald head would brush over the material of the tent's roof. There was no getting used to that. Thousands of years later and the feeling of bare skin there was just...odd. He shook the thought from his mind as he secured his tunic and stepped out of the tent.

Looking around the camp site in the foggy morning haze, Solas noted that he was only the third of their party to wake up. Cassandra and Ceirw remained in their tents. Languidly he walked over to the logs where his other party members perched. At his approach, Varric stood up with a warm grin.

"Oh, Chuckles. You're awake." He chimed with mostly clean bowl in his hands. Nodding towards the camp-fire and the pot of food that hung over it, Varric asked, "Porridge?"

"An astounding observation, Varric." Solas replied to the matter of him being awake. As he sat down he caught Sera rolling her eyes at his remark. "But, yes. Thank you." The food Haven provided wasn't exactly the best Thedas had to offer, nor was the inquisition's members incredibly great cooks, but it served it's purpose. He forced himself not to long for the feasts in Arlathan, where fresh fruit and stuffed birds would be merely appetisers. Just the thought made his stomach growl.

"Well, Chuckles." Varric ironically chuckled back as he scooped porridge into the bowl. "I was going to ask if you wanted salt, but it seems someone woke up bitter enough, this morning."

Sera let out another shrill of laughter and Solas decided that getting up was perhaps regrettable. He hoped that Lavellan and Cassandra would be soon and they could start the journey back to Haven. Orlais was lovely, undeniably, but at least at Haven he wasn't forced to socialise. That and Sera made an infuriating travel companion. He reasoned it could be worse. She could be a devout Dalish elf with beliefs and bias, all of which were far from truth. Which begged the question why he took any interest in Ceirw. She was all these things. Everytime Cassandra asked her something about the Dalish, Solas could barely contain an eyeroll.

Sera was...odd. Self hating, something he could relate to. She was more like him than she'd like to admit. They were both elves who didn't associate themselves with the elvhen of modern times. The key difference being that Sera held no respect for history or culture either. Refreshing, but still over all irritating. There was also something about the blonde elf that reminded him of Andruil. He couldn't quite pinpoint if it was the flawless use of archery or the shrill laughter, but something was similar about the two.

"Hellooooo! You there?" Sera's voice pulled Solas from his thoughts and he realised Varric was by his side holding a bowl of porridge out to the elf.

"Yes. Excuse me, I didn't get a good sleep." He commented back non-chalant as he took a spoonful of the breakfast gruel.

"Don't you like, always sleep outside in the woods and shite?" Sera asked with a quizzical brow and Solas could see Varric from the corner of his eye; The dwarf was trying not to choke on the his second bowl of porridge.

"In a manner...yes." Solas answered cautiously, not quite sure what Sera was getting at.

"Well, then why can't you sleep?" Solas opened his mouth to answer Sera, but her continuing words cut him off, she turned to Varric to add casually. "I had this friend, right. He always had trouble with getting to sleep on the road, yeah. Suddenly he starts sleeping fine. We asked him what was up and he said it was easy after milking the snake. Which is gross, but apparently it works." Sera let out a snort of laughter and Solas watched her face contort into vulgar amusement as she turned to look back to him.

"You did not just...I-- What?" Solas stuttered back out incredulous and both Sera and Varric began laughing again. Suddenly less hungry and eager to be away from both Varric and Sera's company, Solas placed his bowl aside and retreated to his tent briefly. Inside he grabbed hold of a towel and strode back out. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to wash." He replied coldly. Deep down hoping that the solitude of the stream would clear his head.

"Take all the time you need, Chuckles." Solas looked over his shoulder to catch Varric winking at him. Oh spirits...they couldn't actually think...could they? He let out a sigh and stormed off towards the stream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of this chapter in the fade sequence is Solas' pov of chapter 14, in case that wasn't obvious :)


	27. What if?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I've been MIA, haven't I? I apologise! I won't titter on with excuses, just know I am determined to finish this fic, and I will do my best. I hope you all enjoy and thank you kindly for everything!

"His name is, Iron Bull." Lavellan informed him. They had been travelling through wind, rain, and hail for the past six hours. Stepping over wet stone and rocks it was hard not to slip up. Solas was fortunate; he found his balance was far more delicate than that of Cassandra or Blackwall. Blackwall in particular, he noted, was having trouble seeing. After constant blinking to remove the hailstones from his eyebrows; the warrior placed his shield above his head in a makeshift roof. 

“Colourful.” Solas muttered back, spitting out what he thought must be a pint of rainwater in the process. The weather was coming down heavy now; there was no way they would make it to The Wounded Coast before nightfall. They would need to make camp somewhere dry and soon. Solas was unsure he could wait any longer. There was no doubt in his mind that anyone, mercenary captain or not, was not worth this hassle. 

“There’s a cave not far up ahead. Perhaps we should make camp for the night?” Lavellan called to the group. Solas was sure he saw Cassandra and Blackwall visibly sigh in relief. He wasn't far from doing so himself. 

Since recruiting Sera and doing the odd job here and there, Solas was finding dealing with Ceirw much easier. They had fallen into a friendly familiarity and occasionally Solas would forget that they had both shared so much in a time long forgotten. On days he was truly lucky he momentarily forgot that Corypheus could out him at any time. If anything the mage was sure he would not be outed before the events at Redcliffe happened. In the past Ceirw spoke about Redcliffe in such a way, that Solas held it in both awe and fear. Spells in ancient Arlathan could take years to cast. What if when she returned from the past his spell did not work? What if she stormed over to him…What if she still loved him? Worst of all. What if his spell had worked and upon discovering his dealings with Corypheus, she slew him? He could hardly blame her. No, it didn't' bare thinking about.

“Solas?” The voice shattered his bitter sweet thought train and he blinked through rainwater to catch Ceirw staring at him. His mind blanked and he was sure by the quizzical look on her face that Ceirw had asked him a question. His stormy eye’s searched through the storm to spot Cassandra and Blackwall heading up a slope to a cave. Of course. 

“The cave? Yes, I think it’s a good idea.” Solas stated in his clear matter of fact voice. He stepped forward through the cold wet sludge that was the ground and caught Ceirw smiling as he passed her. What a silly man she must think him to be. One so often stuck in daydreams. If only she knew that most of them were of her. 

As though reaching the cave weren’t tricky enough, their party ran into further issues when they stopped there. Solas was hardly surprised. This Iron Bull was turning out to be a lot of trouble. Of course knowing Corypheus’ power, this Iron Bull and his Chargers might very well make a difference. That was an issue for another time, Solas was too busy focusing on the other trouble at hand. Blackwall’s pack had been soaked through and his bedding and tent was unsuitable. 

As Blackwall tried to ring out the water from his bedroll, Cassandra started to set up her own tent. Solas could tell from the uneasy look on her face that she was worried Blackwall might end up sharing a tent with her. He could hardly blame her, no matter how much the two warriors were alike in their fighting style, when it came to personalities, the two were very different. Then there was the possibility of Blackwall sharing with himself. Solas wasn’t too fond of the idea. Not that he held any ill well for the human, it was simply that he appreciated his privacy and sharing a tent with Blackwall would not afford him that. Still, it was the preferred alternative over him sharing a tent with Ceirw. Solas was not one for jealousy, but it was plain to see that the man ogled after their leader when she walked. Even if Blackwall didn't think anyone was looking. Nor was he ever particularly sleazy, in fact he was always gentlemanly. Still something about him put Solas off. Something wasn't right. Perhaps it was the taint, something that came with all Grey Wardens. It was moot point. Regardless of what secrets Blackwall held, he needed somewhere to sleep...Someone to sleep with. 

"No need to panic. This is easily fixed." Ceirw spoke after the short silence. At once all heads in the cave turned towards her with curious, hesitant expressions. His own among them. All he could do was hope that Cassandra would have to 'take one for the team' as Varric might say. "I'll sleep--" The words barely left Ceirw's mouth and Solas' heart began to sink. "-- for an hour or two in the morning and guard for tonight." Not as bad as he had thought. The elf audibly sighed in relief, though to his notice, no one detected it. 

"You can't stay up all night, you're exhausted, herald!" Cassandra protested, but was met with only a raised hand to silence her. 

Ceirw offered a warm smile to both Blackwall and Cassandra, despite the cold temperature of the cave. "I'll be fine. Blackwall can have my bedroll till sunrise and then we can switch. I'll sleep for an hour or two and we can get back on the road." Cassandra opened her mouth to say more but Ceirw only raised her hand higher. "No arguments, this is best for everyone." 

'Everyone' was a bit of a stretch. Best for Cassandra's modesty, Blackwalls pride and Solas' envy? Perhaps, but it certainly wasn't going to do any good on their current leader. Ceirw would either stay up all night and be ill, or fall asleep in damp undergarments by the fire. In which case she would also become ill. There seemed only one case for it, once the others had gone to sleep he'd offer her his bedroll and tent. He could sleep on the ground. It wasn't the first time. It wouldn't be the last. 

 

Cassandra and Blackwall both wandered off to bed respectively. It was no surprise to Solas, what with their party having travelled so far, for so long. He presumed it far more tiring on them with the armor and all anyway. As Cassandra's tent flap closed over, Solas was left in a comfortable silence with Ceirw. The two of them sat beside the fire as it flickered. To his right he looked to Ceirw, watching as her tanned skin shimmered gold in the fire-light. The same gold reflected in her amber eyes and she absent-mindedly watched the flames. Behind her he caught the storm, the both of the cave lay open at a far end. He watched as drop after drop of rain crashed against stone in a rhythmic beat. There was something soothing about being able to see the storm, hear it, smell it and yet be safe and dry from it. 

"I love the smell of rain." Ceirw said softly, stirring Solas from his thoughts. His dull blue eye's moved to catch hers. For all she smiled, the creases on her face informed him of just how tired she was. "There's something about the cold smell of wet grass that's just so intoxicating." 

Solas returned Lavellan's smile and nodded slightly, "Whilst I appreciate you sharing, that does not excuse you sleeping out here. You'll catch your death of cold." Whilst he expected Lavellen's smile to sweeten or disappear entirely he was confused to see it widen and grow cocky. 

"Oh and I suppose you wouldn't?" Gods don't get the sniffles. That's would he would have liked to say. Something along those lines, but instead he was left with a half-hearted shrug. "Exactly. Solas, I'm a big girl, I can sleep on the ground in some damp robes. Are you forgetting I was Dalish?" 

The corner of Solas' lips twitched up and he simply replied, "Ah yes, a proud Dalish, how could I forget?" 

"Do you have to always say that like it's a bad thing?" Ceirw replied, despite her words being laced with humour, Solas caught something akin to bitterness in her eyes at she murmured the words to him. He didn't mean to be so harsh on her beliefs. It was merely difficult to respect the Dalish when they had being standoffish to him. They had turned him into a cruel joke. A fairytale to scare naughty elven children. A villain. Furthermore they dictated what 'true elves' were, and yet knew nothing about what 'true elves' really are.   
If they did, Solas would not be staring at the most beautiful face he has ever seen tarnished with the mark of June. 

"No. forgive me, I have quarrels with the Dalish but none against you." Solas offered, though Ceirw smiled, it was clear his words did nothing to ease her. "Your vallaslin." He commented further, and in a moment Ceirw was alert, on defence almost. "They are of June the craftsman, no?" He asked, knowing the answer already and a slight indication of her head confirming it. "Well, I was curious as to why you chose that particular mark. You are a mage, why not Sylaise?" 

Ceirw tilted her head and Solas was unsure of the woman's thoughts. He could not decipher how she looked at him in the dim flame light, but if he had to guess he'd say she was intrigued. Why? That he had care enough to ask? That he knew about the Dalish ways? Perhaps she'd never considered it before? Or maybe he was missing something entierly. Solas eye's narrowed ever so slightly as he watched Ceirw carefully choose her words. 

"June is the creator. He's not the mother of halla, or the fair goddess of the hunt..." Hah! "...and true he isn't 'the magical one' but what he brought was far more important." It must have been clear the meaning wasn't clear to Solas, as after looking at him she laughed and continued, "What I mean is. June taught us to fashion bows and arrows and knives, so that we could hunt. He gave us clothes to shield our modesty. Magic is a marvellous thing as you well know Solas, but where would the elves be without clothes, knives and bows? Not ever elf is born with magic, but all have the ability to learn how to craft." 

"You want to be like everyone else?" Solas asked curiously. 

"I am like everyone else." Ceirw corrected. "Minus a fade rift hand." She added in a teasing tone. 

"You're quite fascinating." Solas replied with somewhat admiration. Clearly misplaced. Despite being so, Ceirw smiled at the compliment. 

"In any rate. You should go sleep Solas. We have a long day tomorrow and we'll be going to meet with the mages once we get Bull."

"We're meeting with the mages?" Solas replied, agreeing that he was quite tired as he stood to make for his bedroll. 

"Yes, didn't Cassandra mention the meeting? We're going to Redcliffe in a couple of days." Solas stopped frozen on route to his tent. He was to still to even turn his head back to Ceirw. It was too soon. After Redcliffe... All bets were off. He had no inclining to his future. Anything could happen. 

"Solas?"

What if she remembered? 

"...Solas?"

What if she hated him. What if she didn't make it back? What if...

"...Are you alright?" Solas' thoughts broke as Ceirw's hand clamped down on his shoulder and she stole to his side. A look of concern gracing her sleep deprived features. His stormy blue eye's scanned every last feature of her face. Drinking her in like a man in the desert. He knew Redcliffe was going to happen, but he wasn't ready. 

"Fine." He replied slipping back into ease and brushing off his inward panic. He was not a young man, he could conceal his feelings now. "Just dizzy, lack of sleep no doubt."

"If you're sure." Ceirw returned with a smirk, "You had me worried for a moment there. Get a good rest." 

"And to you." Solas breathed back, thoughts millions of miles away. He was so lost in the fear of what Redcliffe may bring that he forgot to take his blanket out to Ceirw as she fell asleep by the fire, like he had planned. Instead he lost himself in the fade and spoke to Wisdom of his worries. 

The end was just beginning.


	28. Where Do We Go From Here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys, you are so supportive and wonderful, and can I just say, out of curiosity I googled this story and found a whole bunch of you on tumblr or the bioware fourm recommending this story. It really made me tear up. You're all too sweet!

The days and travel leading up to Redcliffe were miserable. Solas barely got a wink of sleep and to any of his fellow party members he must look like hell. Not that his looks bothered him, but keeping up appearances was important. Things in Redcliffe went as expected. He'd heard the story from Ceirw so long ago. He knew this chapter like the back of his hand. There was few surprises, Dorian's appearance was one. The man did not look at all like Solas had expected. The way Ceirw spoke with such fondness for the man and his knowledge, Solas was expecting a more mature tevinter. 

The biggest fear Solas had was his spell hadn't worked. Deep down he feared that Ceirw hadn't really loved him at all. It was all an act and when she got back to her own time she'd kill him. He'd let her. As they confronted Alexius with the help of Felix, Solas stood behind Varric, a palm covering a yawn. Not from boredom, but exhaustion. Moments later, it happened. Ceirw confidently moved towards Alexius and in a flash of green...

 

Gone. 

 

Solas’ eye’s searched the area where Ceirw Lavellan had once stood. The hall stood quiet and heavy with unease. Himself, Dorian and Varric watched as Ceirw was transported away. Of course Solas know all to well where she was. She was in his domain. He was calling her fascinating. He was watching her prove herself, he was falling in love with her, making love to her, they were saving each other… in so many ways. She might not come back. Something may have gone wrong. His skin tingled with goosebumps, each one from a combination of cold unease, fear, and regret. There was too many what ifs, too many variables. Still deep down in the pit of his heart, in a place he promised himself he’d closed off, there was hope. Hope that she would re-appear in front of him. That she’d take his hand and they’d kiss and she would tell him, everything was going to be fine. 

The crackles of magic in the air sent shivers down his spine and raised his already pimpled skin. To his left he caught Varric scratching at his stuble, a defeated look on his face. The dwarf assumed her dead. Well of course he watched her vanish before his eyes, he was no mage, how would he begin to assume time magic was at play. Dorian on the other hand seemed to know comprehend the situation, but that all but made the tevinter more concerned. He had been an inch away from Ceirw’s side. One more step and he may very well have ended up in Solas’ domain that day too. A shemlen in Arlathan…The Dread Wolf would not have taken pity on Dorian. Solas shuddered at the thought. 

Then it happened. Sight of her. Ceirw stepping through the cracks in the fade, her eye’s closed, only moments ago had his hands been caressing her, stealing her memories from her. He’d granted those to Mythal to protect. He had no way of getting hold of them now. Nor did he want to, he was a bad person. He had all but destroyed Thedas in a bid to release his brethren. The elves needed their gods and instead all he’d done is set Corypheus on them. Of course that might have happened eventually… Hawke brought Corypheus to the world. Solas just gave him the power. 

Solas eagerly searched Ceirw’s face for recognition. He waited centuries to see how this spell had turned out. If she knew anything she hid it well. If anything he noted she looked smug. The final confirmation came when the words poured from her lips. "Was that it? I half expected a fight from you, Alexius." Solas’ plan had worked, but at what cost? How could he have known so long ago that all he would want in this moment was for her to turn around and embrace him. He was not a weak willed man, and the fact remained that there were bigger problems to face than that of a broken heart. Still. In years of darkness and pain, waking to a world who despised him. Just having her know it all and still wanting him was enough to make it dull. If only for a moment. 

The memories he took from her had been given to Abelas of all people. After learning of Mythal’s death Elgar’nan had began to wreak havoc on the world. Natural disasters occurring everywhere, fade rifts opening, demon’s plaguing elvhen villages. It was hell and it needed to be stopped. Andruil’s madness was getting worse and in times to come the dark ones began to notice the vulnerability. It was a war of which the likes of which had never been seen. Solas was full of grief for his friend and lost love that he avoided getting involved. To make matters worse the shemlen arrived in the mortal world. With their prayers not being answered by the gods and the human folk so close, elvhen began to lose their immortality and begin their own war. That was when Solas had had enough. Elgar’nan’s mourning was destroying the world and it had to be stopped. Of course locking away the father of gods would not sit well with the rest. They had to go too. Not wanting to leave the world to the peril of the dark ones, he had to stop them too. 

For once the Dalish did get one thing right. After locking both parties away, he laughed madly for what felt an enternity. Not out of glee, out of pain, insanity. That’s when Wisdom came to him and brought him into the deep sleep. 

He did not know where Abelas was now or if the man was even alive. Ceirw’s memories were probably lost forever and he had no power of restoring them…unless he spoke to Mythal. No. That was out of the question. He felt anger at the mere thought. They had bigger things to deal with. He was right to remove those memories from Ceirw. Outwardly Solas nodded to confirm his thoughts, as if reassuring himself. Them loving each other would only make this harder. Harder than lying to her would be. He had to question how he got himself in to all this mess. 

So lost in his thoughts, Solas did not hear all of Alexius’ confrontation. He only sprung back to attention at the arrival of King Alistair. An admirable man. Although Solas could not help but sigh in pity as he watched the King dismiss Fiona of the mages. If only he knew the truth. It was not Solas’ place to get involved there.

Ceirw inevitably recruited the mages as allies, not that he was in any doubt. As a mage herself, she was hardly going to punish them or treat them with hostility.   
“Time to get this show on the road.” Ceirw called out and the crowds began to disperse. Solas himself fell in line. The sooner they got back to Haven the better. They could seal the breach and he could leave. Figure out a way to kill Corypheus himself. 

"Solas, is something wrong? I thought the mages would make great allies, shouldn't you be happy?” The words shattered his thoughts like glass. The naivety in her question made him feel a knot of guilt twist deep in his stomach. What could he say? ‘Forgive me, I just remembered that I made you forget we’re in love and it’s killing me?’ No, that sort of answer wouldn’t do. 

“No, I am merely pleased that your confrontation with Alexius went so smoothly.” Solas retorted in forced ease, to his ears the words came out genuine. 

"Then take a leaf from Varric's book and cheer up." Ceirw chuckled, playfully shoving Solas playfully.

"Forgive me, Inquisitor. I had trouble sleeping.” Solas replied, the answered could be left there, but even a little bit of the truth was better than nothing, “-and I now realise how foolish I've been." He added in slight afterthought. He smiled kindly at Ceirw, hoping that adoration didn’t show in his eyes. He somehow managed to mess everything up, but the least he could do is stop her worrying about him. 

Like she would to any other acquaintance she’d made recently, Ceirw returned a smile at Solas and then turned away. He watched as she ran to catch up with Dorian, chuckling away about something or other. Though he hadn’t been sleeping the past few nights, he was sure he’d sleep tonight. Wisdom would be there, they would talk to him and help him through the night. Despite everything, that’s the one thing he could rely on. Wisdom would always be waiting for him in the fade. 

The best friend he could ever ask for.


	29. It's A Cold And It's A Broken...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I vow to finish this story. (Also I have written the equivalent of the first harry potter book word-wise. I am procrastinator this is an achievement for me.) 
> 
>  
> 
> You guys. You guys really keep me inspired to write this. I can't even explain how much it warms my heart. To know that nearly 1000 people have read this and gone 'yeah kudos' is just...wow. I can't believe how sweet you are. Whilst it takes me a while to answer comments I want you to know I read them and get real choked up. You're just. Too sweet and kind. <3
> 
> It's exam time in college for me which is why I am particular in a lull...but good news! Just one more week and it's Summer! That means Updates will be at least three times a week. 
> 
> On top of that in a gesture of good faith I have two more chapters written that I will post during this week! First one today...next chapter maybe Thursday or Wednesday night!

It took time to adapt to the idea that Ceirw Lavellan wasn’t ever going to remember him. Solas would like to think the years in his sleep and time in the fade had wizened him. Prevented him from falling into petty ways of malice like the hot-headed younger elf he was. Still, deep down in his very core the weight of his actions pulled at him. It ached to know that this woman, this woman which he watched show fierce bravery…this woman that he loved in a way he wasn’t even sure he still did, would never remember him.  
Love was complicated. Solas wasn’t sure how it came to happen to him. Centuries of being in Arlathan, playing the game of the gods and then ‘poof.’ Everything changed. 

Days had passed since Ceirw looked at him that day in Redcliffe. Once or twice she tossed a concerned glance his way, but he and no doubt the other reassured Ceirw that Solas was just deep in daydream. Most of the ride back to Haven that was the case. Or actual dream. When not rolling his eyes at fashion advice from Dorian, Solas was lost in thought or asleep. In dreams he could speak to Wisdom. Not only them but also Compassion, Valour and, Purpose. With their help, he tried to locate Corypheus but neither his or their magic was up to the task. Not without a powerful binding. Which was not an option. 

He would have to deal with Corypheus eventually. Logically he would leave Ceirw’s side after the breach was closed by the mages. Corypheus must have given Ceirw the mark accidentally. Solas could only hope that he had no use for it any more. Or at the very least he hopped to find Corypheus and the orb before the abomination could do anything about it. Knowing that his orb, his magic was being used to harm people, made Solas feel sick. 

Despite the mixture of feelings he felt and the memories from so long ago that churned within him, Solas had to remind himself. He was a higher being who once served elves in Thedas. They needed him. They needed the rest of the gods. He could be bitter, sure. The fact still remained, his name was tarnished. For all his mistakes ‘The Dread Wolf’ had become a morally grey being to some and outright hated by others. Ceirw made him smile once, and fascinated him but the needs of the few did not outweigh those of the many. The elves needed their gods back and so they needed him. 

The moment that breach sealed he would leave. Plan his next step and tackle Corypheus, a being he had yet came to understand. There was on theory. Corypheus was one of the seven magisters who marched into The Black City. It was merely Solas grasping at straws, however. He wasn’t sure he could believe in a higher being in himself. Not in a narcissistic way, just a logical viewpoint. If some form of maker did exist why had they let him play god? Yet his existence and that of the fade sprung unanswered questions. Deep down he knew he was no god. Elgar’nan didn't create the world and Mythal did not form from the ocean. 

Those questions were all things he had given up on long ago. Being the creature he was and in the position he was in, he already had far more answers to life than the majority of Thedas. One thing he knew was Corypheus was alive in some manner of the word. 

Anything that is alive may be killed. 

 

 

Sealing the breach had been a success. Not that he doubted it. Neither did he doubt for a moment the reaction. Haven was overcome with cheer . Every face held either relief or joy. Even Ceirw looked happy. He had watched as she and Cullen stepped out to join in the Celebrations or perhaps observe them. The knowledge that he would have to leave niggled at his mind, but one last night couldn't hurt?

His thought stream was interrupted as a figure approached him, he turned to the person in his peripheral to discover it was Cassandra. 

“Good evening, Seeker.” He said simply in greeting, expecting her to come forth with her question. 

“Hello Solas.” She said back in her sombre and serious voice. Curiosity lining her features as she looked him over. “It appears to have worked, but can you assure me?” There it was. His own face must have shown his expectation as Cassandra’s softened in reply. 

“The heaven’s are scarred. That breach ripped a hole through fade, time and measures beyond our control. However, I can confirm they are calm.” Cassandra nodded accepting the information. Leaving Solas to add, “All thanks to our unfortunate elven friend.”

“Yes, you are correct. Despite everything she has helped us. I hope she will continue to do so. With the breach closed we will need to move on to bigger things. New focus. Do you think-” 

“-That she will join you in your continuing fight?” Solas asked, cutting short Cassandra’s question. 

“Yes.” 

“Surly a question you should be directing to her and not myself, no?” Solas replied, clasping his hands in front of his tunic and observing Cassandra curiously. Why she thought he might know the inner workings of Ceirw’s head or her ambition was beyond him. In truth he didn’t, When he first met Ceirw all he knew of her ambition was to get answers.  
“You've become her friend.” Cassandra answered back. 

“As have you. I fail to see how I am any different from you or Varric for that matte—“ Solas cut himself off this time. It was a faintest glint in Cassandra’s eye but he’d seen the forced look before. “Ah, because we’re both elves.” It made sense now. 

“That is not what I meant.” Cassandra said firmly in her always commanding voice. “Though, yes. With Ceirw being Dalish that assumption would not be hard to make, Solas.” 

“I assure you seeker, I am not her clansmen or kin. I know no more than you do.” 

“Of course.” Cassandra stated and a small tone of apology shone through the words. “I will go speak to her myself.”

Solas nodded in farewell after the woman and watched as she went outside to go in search of Ceirw. He himself remained inside. Until…until he heard the shouting. Followed by the bell ringing.

“Never a dull moment for Southerners!” Dorian said in an astounding combination of bitterness and glee as Solas stepped outside. Ceirw was already halfway down the hill with Cassandra and Varric beside her. As the warning bells rang out, the elf didn’t even need to check. He knew. Deep down he knew it was Corypheus, but why? What did he want? He had the orb and all It’s ability. What did he need? Ceirw’s mark? Or had he tracked Solas here? Could he be the reason Corypheus had come? All those question swirled in his mind, but they couldn’t be answered. 

He arrived at the bottom of the hill just in time to hear a young voice cry out from behind the gate. 

“I can’t come in unless you open!” A voice he hadn’t expected to hear. That was not corypheus. That was the voice of a young man. It made no sense. 

When the gate opened, in stepped a young man over the recently deceased body of a Templar. No. Not a young man…a spirit? Solas’ brows furrowed together in confusion. Things had gotten from tricky to complicated and then some. His stormy eye’s lingered over the body of the humanised spirit, not paying any attention to it’s interaction with Ceirw.  
His ears perked at one name. ‘The Elder One.’ The spirit boy spoke of how This Elder One…Corypheus knew Ceirw. Then it made sense. He wasn’t here for Solas. He was here for her and to what end Solas could not know. Sure enough as the thoughts were still fresh in his head, he looked up to where the spirit pointed. Corypheus stood atop snow-toped mountain not far from them. The space before them would soon be a vast battle field.  
“Cullen, a plan would be great about now.” Ceirw said turning to the commanding officer. Who in no surprise to Solas reacted with force. For once the mage could not fault the ex-templar. Battle strategy is what would keep Haven alive. Still. It would need to be a good one. Corypheus was not someone to be messed with. Not with Solas’ orb. 

Solas stared after Ceirw as she went towards the trebuchets. She called Varric, Cassandra and Dorian to her side. He was left as back up with Blackwall and the others. 

“I thought maybe just one day without fighting…” Blackwall grumbled with a forced sigh. 

“You fought one day without fighting? How’d you manage that?” Sera snarked back, followed by the nervous laugh that Solas noticed she did under pressure. 

In the end their assistance was needed. In small groups they divided and Solas found himself putting up protective barriers and watching both Blackwall and Iron Bull’s backs as they fought lyrium tainted Templars. Sera, Vivenne and Cullen had moved to the left to form their own group. Anything to keep the numbers off Ceirw long enough to let her and the others create the avalanche. 

With snow falling down the hills at an alarming pace, Cullen called the retreat. Solas watched for Ceirw but Blackwall was already gesturing for him to move along. He must have sensed Solas’ wavering as the warrior looked him in eye, stating with a firm voice. “She’ll be fine, Solas.” 

Unsure of how to take the words, the elf nodded and made back for the chantry.


	30. ...Hallelujah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised!!  
> You guys are really friggin' incredible by the way.  
> Speaking of incredible! I got fanart of Ceirw and it's very beautiful, you should check out the wonderful artist - http://juditg.deviantart.com/art/Only-Time-Will-Tell-Aur-Ceirw-535582074?ga_submit_new=10%253A1432678670&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1&ga_recent=1

Once at the top of the hill only steps from the chantry itself, Solas let his guard down. It was his mistake. It was brief. Momentary and yet it cost so much. One of the Templars had somehow breached the walls. They had gotten so far and somehow managed to sneak up behind him. He didn't hear them till the last second and by then it was too late.  
Solas heard the sword sink in deep with squelch, but felt no pain. He turned sharply to find said weapon buried in the abdomen of his saviour Chancellor Roderick. The last man he expected to help him and yet there he stood clear as day. With a growl ripping in his throat, Solas pulled his fist back and sent an unwavering force of energy towards the doped up Templar. With the rage fuelling it the Templar’s body tore through the air twist and cracking bone beneath the metal armour. As Roderick fell to his knees, Solas moved to help him up. 

“Thank you. You needn’t have done that. “ He informed the human, who at this point fascinated him enough to clear his own jumbled thoughts. Self-sacrifice was something he so rarely saw and it’s nobility was always astounding to Solas. 

“The Maker would not have approved if I stood idly by.” Roderick wheezed. “Getting injured was not my intention. I can be an old fool, but I…needed to help…the herald.” Faith was a powerful weapon in war; for the enemy. Solas did not dare mention that. 

“I’ll do my best to heal you but…” Solas started, his dark blue eye’s caught Roderick's and the man nodded. 

“But it’s no use.” 

Cole took care of the chancellor after that. It was no time to be sorry. Many more would die unless they did something. 

 

“If it will save these people, then he can fucking have me!” Ceirw snapped, the frustration was getting to her. It was rare she cursed, at least that he saw, but Roderick dying before her and the others in the street rotting. It was no wonder and Solas would not blame her for her outburst. Yet the disregard for her own life spurned anger in him. She could not just throw it away like that. She had so much to live for. 

Roderick had not just saved Solas it seemed. His confession of the hidden path had saved all of Haven. Everyone except Ceirw. He watched as she received Cullen’s strategic instuctions but could not allow them, as the blonde turned to face her own maker, Solas stepped forward. His hands clutched around her wrist and in that moment all pretence had gone. 

“You cannot go alone.” He said his voice sharp, he kept so as he knew should he soften it all it would crack. 

“Solas I have to.” Ceirw replied, frustration lining her voice. She looked first down to where his hand held her wrist and then up to lock her own glitter gold eye’s with his. His heartstrings tugged in his chest and he shook his head. 

The shaking of the head might have said too much as confusion and interest pulled at her face. He was being selfish. To confess himself now was not the time. It could very will kill her for certain. The longer he held her wrist the less chance she had of getting to those trebuchets. The last thing she needed to worry about was him. 

“Stay safe.” Solas murmured in a voice that was too intimate for a friend. No. This changed nothing. She was better off without him. “Stay safe and keep that mark protected. We need it.” Ceirw’s eyes that were hovering over his quickly flicked down to her anchored hand in realisation. Solas let go and took a step back. Composing his features into a perfect line, she glanced to him once more to nod. 

“I know the people rely on me Solas. Now you go keep them safe.” Her words were serious. Solas almost felt as though she were speaking to a commander or an elder. That’s probably how she felt about him. It wasn’t til she left the chantry did his face break. He stood there still staring after her, his heartbreaking. 

What kind of goodbye was that? 

 

 

Solas stood inside his recently and hastily pitched tent. Others catered to the wounded and some had other jobs. As far as he was concerned, his only job was to worry and hate himself. His exterior remained a harden shell, much like most of his heart was trying to be, but he couldn't hide his fear from himself. Ceirw might be dead. There was a twinge of pain in his chest just at the thought. She could be dead and the last thing he said wasn’t a confession of love. 

She was mortal. He knew this day would come and yet to accept it was too hard. Knowing that Corypheus killed her…it would make it Solas’ fault. Dead because of him. The thought made Solas’ leg buckle a bit and he had to reach out to the tent post to steady himself. He had to be strong now. The world was chaos and the gods were locked away. He chastised himself, reminding himself of how selfish he was being. This was all his fault he had no reason to worry. After he locked the gods away…

Solas’ whole body froze. That was it. That’s how he would know. It had been hours sure, but there was only way to find out for sure if she was alive. The tall elf buckled down into a cross-legged position and shut his eyes. Slowly Solas started to envision himself in the fade. It didn’t take long with all his years of practice. There was also no need for wards as it was only a light trance. It had to be light allowing him to hear any signal of Ceirw in the real world. In no time at all Solas felt his body numbing and tingling and his mind soon slipped into the fade. 

Wisdom met him almost immediately. His eye’s had not even adjusted to the surroundings of his dream-like state. The spirit ‘stood’ at his side, it’s form looking over him in sheer worry and pity. With a look of his own he shook his head to Wisdom. They would try and talk him out of it. They would try and tell him to wait patiently. Truth be told, he’d waited beyond years to know if Ceirw was safe and well. He couldn’t wait any longer. The mere thought of her body being out there, in the cold, broken and bruised. It crippled his very being to picture it. It was also no new knowledge to him that being this fearful in the fade was dangerous, but he would take on demon or spirit to get where he needed to go. 

Wisdom’s wispy mouth formed to speak and Solas silenced them with a hand. “No.” He said to the spirit. His voice was no harsh, just full of command. He would not hear his friend try and reason with him. Not today. “I need to know if she’s okay.” This was his fault after all. 

Solas walked the fade for only minutes in the real world, but there it felt longer. Eventually his feet brought him to a familiar swirling portal. With a deep breath the mage stepped through the violet and purple vortex. In a blink he was stepping out the other side.

At the other side of that portal was a long familiar hallway. He hadn't visited the hall since he woke up from his long slumber. Solas didn’t like it there. He hadn’t from the first moment he’d been there, but it was the only way he was going to get answers. As he stepped forward, the fade formed mirrors down either side of the long corridor. He needn’t look at them to see his figure reflected a younger man. A younger elf with long hair and a crown. 

Wisdom still clung to his side as Solas continued .The spirit didn’t want him to do anything stupid and he appreciated that. Though his mind was a mess with worry for Ceirw and his action’s he took great comfort in his best friend. Wisdom saw him through the hardest of times and like all good friends knew when he needed to do something and let him.  
As he reached the end of the corridor Solas pressed his hand to the wall. 

“Gara.” He spoke the elvish with great discomfort as he watched the wall before him fade into glass. Glass similar to that of an Eluvian. 

 

“Falon’Din.” Solas spoke to the glass. There was no reply and he could not see any figures through darkness at the other side of the mirror. 

He waited another moment, but no reply from that world and none stirring him from the waking was driving Solas’ patience. He slammed his hand palm down on the glass-like surface, leaving his knuckled white with force as they pressed down. “Answer me!” 

Sure enough, Solas’ anger had sparked enough amusement for Falon’Din to step out of the shadows and look the man from the other side of the glass. Glass that seemed so fragile. So easy to break and yet it would take Solas’ orb to even dent the shield encasing it. 

Falon’Din stood staring from his mystical cage. Solas thought he look horrific. Not that he held much fondness for the man. The years had not been kind to the god, however. He still stood tall and pale, regal as the day he met him. Only there was slight differences. He wore no crown on his head and held no staff. Worst of all the changes was undoubtedly his eyes. Solas met with Falon’s gaze. Two bloodied red eye’s watching him. No pupil, no hint of sight, just deep, dark bloodied eye’s with scarlet crusting around the water-line. 

“A visit? My dear Fen’harel, this is an honour.” His voice spoke, vibrating from the void and calling out to Solas. 

 

“No games, please. I need to know something.” Solas asked, a small begging in his voice. 

“A favour? Last time you visited you told me to take care of Andruil and you’d let us all out…” Falon pointedly blinked his bloodied eyes and smiled a little too sweetly. “Look how that turned out dear friend. You’re still out there and I’m here. What’s left of me.” 

 

“Please.” Solas choked out, his voice was near begging. It had been far too long in the human world for Ceirw to be okay. If she wasn’t dead she was dying. “It’s for Ceirw. Is she dead?”

Falon tilted his head slowly to the left and then to the right. Solas watched with impatience but slowly a soft smile spread on to Falon’s face. “She had a beautiful soul, that one.” His words were said fondly in memory and Solas’ heart sank. ‘Had’ that could mean she was dead, but it could also mean past tense. Which was it? 

“Is she?”

“The Golden Deer is still a beautiful creature, Fen’harel.” Falon replied smoothly, his voice sinking into it’s usual warm lull, emerged with some thoughtfulness. 

“Can you sense her life line?” Solas asked, urging for more information. “If I leave now, will I reach her in time?”

“No.” 

Solas’ eye’s widened. “No? You mean there’s no hope?” His voice was hitting a bitter edge and Wisdom who remained silent, reached out putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“No. No meaning you do not get to be the hero of this tale, Roamer of the Beyond.” Falon replied softly with another smile and Solas tilted his head, it took all his might not to lose patience with Falon. “She will not die tonight. I imagine she is perfectly safe on her way to you.” 

“Thank you.” Was all Solas could breath after processing the information. Out of custom Solas bowed back to the god and turned. He would need to wake for Ceirw’s arrival. Corypheus would lead to many question’s Solas needed time to plan for. 

“Fen’harel, do tell the Golden Deer, to visit some time.” 

Solas stopped walking away as Falon’s voice echoed through the hall. It was only a moment but enough for Falon to jump to conclusions. 

“So you did wipe her memory? Dirthamen was correct.” Solas started walking again The further he got away from the wall, the quicker it began to re-cover itself. As the prison of the gods obscured from view Falon’s voice echoed through the hall. 

“You’re protecting no one but yourself….Solas….” 

Falon was right, but what could Solas do? He was trying. 

When Solas awoke in the real world, it was to the sound of Cullen's voice calling out that 'The Herald' had arrived to the camp. Solas stepped out of his tent to find her looking beaten and unconscious in a guard's arms. He hated to see what pain Corypheus had caused her, but on the other hand, she was safe....

For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Falon-Fanservice has visited today! <3  
> Honestly I didn't see why there could be no communication between the gods and solas. He 'locked' them away, he didn't gag them too!


	31. You've Got a Friend In Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It's officially summer for me, so expect this story to be done this summer! Also for those of you who have been so supportive of my college work, you'll be glad to know I got an 'A' on my graded unit!! Passed my year with top marks. So sorry for putting off the story, but it's been worth it. 
> 
> In other news for those of you who care, I'm an art major and during the summer I'm posting art work on my tumblr, some of which will hopefully feature characters from this story (Any request welcome) I've already drawn Falon'din and have some other stuff in mind! So if you want to follow me, go ahead! 
> 
> \- http://tartanarting.tumblr.com/

“I know you.”

Solas’ eye were fixated on the unconscious body of Ceirw before him. Cullen laid her there when she collapsed upon arriving at camp. Solas couldn't help but wonder how far she’d have to have walked to find them. Him. Them. In the cold, her body had clearly taken a pounding. Just the sight of Cullen bearing her in his arms was enough to make Solas breathless. Not from envy or anything petty like that, but relief. Relief that she was safe. Sure, he couldn't deny that she had been put through hell and pain, and whoever knew what else, but she was safe. Solas could appreciate that. The blond man had gently laid Ceirw’s body atop a navy bedroll. Regardless of her being alive, she looked so dead. Her body was cold and lay stiffly like a corpse on the blue bedroll. That’s where Solas came in. Being that he was a healer and ‘expert’ on the anchor, he took it on himself to check Ceirw over. A few broken ribs, possible punctured lung, frostbite. Solas was surprised she made it to the camp at all. It twisted a deep dark fear in his gut to realise she was so fragile. Like all mortals can be. Yet clearly making it to camp proved she was strong; a fighter. He knew this already, it was nothing new.

That’s when the melodic voice echoed through his thoughts with it’s assessment. “I know you.”

  
Solas’ pain filled eye’s hardened to those of a healer as he turned them to look at the owner of the voice. Where he was expecting to see Mother Giselle he saw someone entirely different. 

Cole. The ‘boy’ that saved the day.

“Excuse me?” Solas asked matter of factly.

To which Cole simply replied, “I know you…not you, _you_. The old you. Twisted, broken, aged. She can’t know, she’s so strong and she can’t know. Know that I lied. I’m a monster.”   
  
Solas’ eye’s widened considerably and he looked around the camp in a panicked hurry. Fortunately there was no bodies in earshot, nor anyone looking their way suspiciously. His full attention once more turned to the being before him.  He was clearly a powerful being that just so happened to be trapped in the image of an adolescent. The young man looked confused. His glittering eye’s as pale as Falon’din’s searched Solas’ features. From what Solas could tell the spirit may very well have been searching his soul. Prodding around in dark places of the mage's mind. Places he didn't even let Wisdom see. Solas could only counteract in one way. To use what powerful magic he had retained from the old days and seek out this ‘Cole’s spirit too.

 

> _"No. You're not alone. People here are there. So many people are there. People that should not be there. I should not be there. Why am I there?" The spirits voice was beginning to bubble up in panic, everything was escalating more quickly than she anticipated._
> 
> _"Why am I there? Spirits do not belong. Pain, I see so much pain and a boy Co--"_
> 
> _"Be-gone spirit. You can do no healing here." A voice broke through her dream like thunder and the whole illusion of her dream cracked. In seconds she was standing on the un-easy purple ground that the fade defaulted to. The spirit that had a stood by her side was gone and she was left questioning it's words._

  
  
Suddenly there it was. Both Solas and Cole’s wavelength’s connected and as quickly as it came, the magic fell.  Solas stared at Cole curiously as the spirit’s eye bored back into his own. Solas wasn’t sure how this was possible. How a spirit like him could even be in the world the way he was… well it was impossible. Yet, before Solas’ very eye’s Cole stood. Things that surprised someone like Solas usually were very rare but ever since he met Ceirw both on the first and second occasion, they occurred in bulk.   
  
“No one can know.”

“I don’t know.” Cole whispered back to Solas. Solas observed the spirit of compassion and couldn’t fathom why, but noted that Cole seemed unable to put all the pieces together. Or at least, unable to voice them. Whatever the reason, Solas was sure Cole wasn’t going to be a problem.

“You’re not afraid of me.” Cole said, once more breaking Solas’ thought train.

“No.” He replied.  It was true. This spirit was one of compassion, not one of malice. Besides, however it came to be made, had made it vulnerable. Solas was confident in the knowledge that should Cole say too much, Solas had the power to stop him. He also had the power to keep him locked out. Fortunately he didn't think it would come to that. The poor spirit didn't even seem to know what was wrong with him.

“I like it when people aren't afraid. So much fear here.” Cole said back, every note an eerie whisper. Solas felt a great deal of empathy for the spirit.   
  
“The mortal world is full of burdens, Cole.” Solas uttered back to the spirit. He felt a great sympathy for the being. However it came to be here, it didn’t belong. It’s whole being must go through conflict every day. Solas couldn’t help but jump to one conclusion. Mages, and by the looks of Cole’s human vessel, human mages. It made Solas’ nose wrinkle in disgust. There was no point in him trying to hide his emotions on the thought. The spirit of Compassion to his left, could read his mind.

Solas’ eye’s turned back to Ceirw’s body. She lay there in front of him so cold looking. It was perhaps best to focus on her in this moment and not the new creature to his side. She was strong, especially in this world and time. It didn't feel right for him to see her looking so vulnerable. What was worse was knowing he couldn’t reach out to hold her. He may not have his orb, so he couldn’t heal all her wounds, but he could definitely hold her. That’s something he was capable of doing. Instead he had to settle for less, just gently healing bruises here and there. 

“You can.” Cole’s voice answered his painful thoughts in regards to Solas holding Ceirw.

“No I can’t, Cole.” Solas breathed back, barely flickering his gaze to Cole.   
  
“You _can!_ I can show you!” Cole exclaimed slightly louder this time and moving towards Ceirw. Solas let out a slightly frustrated sigh and put out his hand to stop Cole from cuddling the unconscious herald. It was innocent enough and Cole meant well, but others at the camp would not see it so. Eventually they would also discover that Cole wasn’t human. That was something Solas would have to deal with later, hopefully.

There was a lot of things he would have to deal with later. Fortunately he had an idea for where to take the haven refugees. His little visit to Falon’Din early reminded him of his ‘old friend's’ old dwelling. Not Falon’Din’s temple, but Tarasyl'an Te'las or as the mortal’s now called it, Skyhold. A place where parton’s would stay and offer their patronage to the ‘Friend of the Dead’. Of course since that time long ago the hold had been changed and adapted. Fereldaners had taken their spin on the ritual site. The last Solas heard of anyone staying their was a mage years ago trying to understand what the elves did there. What their ritual's meant. Of course that mage died never knowing. No one alive bar himself and Mythal could know what that hold really once was. If Falon’Din’s magic still resided over the place then Solas was sure it would keep evil at bay. At least for a little while. That meant Coryphaeus wouldn’t dare touch the hold.

That only left two issues at hand for Solas to deal with in the immediate future. Keeping an eye on Cole and conveying how important ~~his~~ —no, correction, Corypheus’ orb was to Ceirw. Though with Cole’s communication skills the latter may prove easier, Solas thought. Placing an arm on either of Cole’s shoulder’s the mage gently motioned for the ‘boy’ to step back from the unconscious Ceirw. Cole’s face twisted with confusion at first but then slight realisation.

“Cole.” Solas said softly but sternly. His face held a small comforting smile but he remained composure to get his point across. “I am sure you have been in the mortal realm for a long enough time. Heed my words, people will treat you with hostility if you continue to act too impulsively.”

“You don’t want me to hurt her. I wasn't going to.” Cole replied his tone showing a wavering understanding.   
  
“I don’t think you ever would purposely, it’s not in the nature of your spirit.” Solas assured, “But sometimes being honest hurts people. It’s not fair on the herald for either of us to share our knowledge of the past. Don’t make me, make you forget.” The latter of his words held a small threat, one that he must have conveyed as Cole nodded.

“Oh, and don’t try to embrace people who are unconscious.” Solas said firmly, turning away from Ceirw and heading back to his own tent. It would be even more confusing should she awaken to hear their conversation.

“Because they don’t like it?” Cole’s voice asked as he clumsily followed after Solas.

“Exactly.”

"Okay." Cole replied. 

Solas stepped over to his tent with Cole in tow, trying to inform the boy of 'common knowledge.'

 

 

 

 

The song was beautiful; the words poetic. Solas hadn’t indulged himself in music for a long time. It was fitting that as he stood in the cold mountain tops that that was song he heard. It wasn’t so much a song in his mind as it was a chorus. A chorus of people, mainly human, devoting themselves to peace. He watched with curiosity as they, regardless of knowing or intending on it, devoted themselves to their ‘herald.’ Ceirw was alive and therefore ‘the people’ had hope.

It was then Solas realised that perhaps this was all bigger than him. Ceirw had faults, her over-curiosity, her brashness, and perhaps worst of all; her mindset for living in the present with no major thought on repercussions. None of that seemed to matter now. Regardless of all that, she was bigger than him. In Thedas, a world without interfering gods, she was the closest thing ‘the people’ had.

Solas’ eye’s narrowed with newly found curiosity of his own. Fate was always a weaving and tricky thing but he never thought he’d see it so blatantly or acknowledge it. In times long past Solas held the power and Ceirw abided to his world, a world where she wanted to help people. People like Sior. Solas would never have ventured a guess that years later he would be stood in a crowd where he was the ‘hobo’ who wanted to help the people and Ceirw the goddess. Correction, Demi-god. Fate was a curious thing, Solas had to give it that.

As the song died, Solas stepped closer to hear Mother Giselle speaking. “It’s all one world Herald, all that changes is our place in it.” Mother Giselle couldn’t have known it, but in that singular moment, Solas couldn’t agree more.

With time being short, Solas decided that speaking to Ceirw now was the most important thing he could do. He couldn’t be fully honest about the past, because with no way of getting Ceirw her memories she’d think him crazy. He couldn’t tell her too much about Corypheus either or else she’d blame him, which he thought she had every right to.  Still, he had to tell her something. It wasn’t fair keeping her in the dark. The past was the past, but their relationship could still be something. They could be friends, but most importantly he had to be truthful with her. At least as truthful as he could be. Ceirw’s positioned had changed. She was the only one with the power to face Corypheus. She was the people’s prophet. She deserved his respect.

Most of all she deserved to know the orb had elvhen origins. Should any human’s discover that and jump to the conclusion that she, an elf had anything to do with that, devotion could easily change. He didn’t want to see the hatred he received at the festival of Mythal directed at her.  Any human Solas had met in modern day’s held elves with some form of suspicion. With the Dalish he could hardly blame them…and Ceirw was unfortunately that too. He had to warn her, if she was to be becon of hope to the people, she needed their trust and to be above all suspicion.

“A word.” Solas said, in a voice that wasn’t necessarily asking. Unsurprisingly, Ceirw followed after him as they walked somewhere more private. That damn over-curiosity.

His heartbeat leapt with every crunch of snow beneath his feet. His only thoughts on how to choose his words carefully.  Solas raised his hand and in one swift fluid motion, blue flickering, flame burst from a torch that blossomed from the ground. He turned from the fire, watching as Ceirw approached him. Despite having taken a clear beating and a fall, she walked tall. Good he thought. She was taking the burden of everything better than he imagined any mortal would.

“The humans have not raised one of our people so high for ages beyond counting.” He began, clasping his hands behind his back; making sure to stand formal.

Formal? Perhaps he was being too formal. He looked over  Ceirw’s face. She had just taken a beaten from an ancient magister and a dragon. She didn’t need a harsh a lesson. She needed a friend. Solas, loosened his shoulders before he continued.

“The faith is hard-won, lethallin.” Solas concealed a smile as he watched Ceirw’s golden eye’s light up at the word. Lethallin, he called her kin, friend. It was clear on her face how much she appreciated it. He knew not if it was because he was saying it, or more likely because she hadn’t heard the dalish term of endearment in a long time. Still, as he watched her eye’s flickering like firelies in the bath of blue fire-light, he was so glad he said it. So glad he called her friend. “Worthy of pride… save one detail.”

“The threat Corypheus wields? the orb he carried? It is Ours. Corypheus used the orb to open the breach. Unlocking it seemed to cause the explosion that destroyed the conclave.” Solas said in a matter of fact voice, getting back to the subject hand. He watched from the corner of his eye as to his left, Ceirw digested this information.  “We must find out how he survived and we must prepare for their reaction when they learn that the orb is of our people.”

Ceirw took a slow nod before replying. “Alright, what is it, and how do you know about it?” It’s mine. It’s mine is the real answer, but how could he say that? Fortunately, Solas had expected this question. His alibi of studying dream’s was able to handle that question.

“Such things were Foci, said to channel power from our gods. Some were dedicated to specific members of our pantheon. All that remains are references in ruin, and faint visions in the fade. Echoes of a dead empire. However Corypehus came to it, the orb is elvhen and with it he threatens the heart of human faith.” It wasn’t all lies. Most of what Solas said was true, only his source was false.

“Didn’t you see, the people trust me implicitly.” Was Ceirw’s reply and Solas wished he could quip back that they trusted him once too. Look where he got them.

“Faith tends to make martyrs of its champions.” Was all he replied.

Ceirw seemed to consider the words. Her tooth gnawed thoughtfully at her lower lip in thought. He only hoped she took his heeding seriously. Arlathan was a different time, he had no idea how she would grow as a leader. He’d seen power change too many people. Falon’Din being one of them.

“Whatever the case.” He said breaking her from whatever thoughts she might be having. “That faith cannot grow in the wilderness. You will need every advantage. By attacking the inquisition Corypheus has changed things, changed you. Scout to the north. Be their guide. There is a place that waits for a force to hold it, there is a place where the inquisition can build, grow. ”

“Sounds dreamy, why didn’t you mention this to Cassandra or Cullen. You’re an elf too, Solas, you can help destroy suspicion.”  


“I’m ‘just’ an elf. You’re the herald. They need you to guide them.” Ceirw nodded firmly, accepting of his answer and with that, Solas moved to leave. They had been alone together far longer than he needed reminding of.  He wanted to sleep, talk to Wisdom and take comfort in his friend. Things were only going to get harder.   


“Solas.” Ceirw’s voice said gently tugging for his attention, and in that moment, she could have asked for the world and he’d have given her it. Her voice was so soft, so light and intimate. It had been so long since he heard it directed to him in such a way. It made him stop from moving away and he turned to catch another glimpse of Ceirw.   
  
“Yes?” Solas replied keeping his own voice as monotone as possible. Emotions were a weakness and to get her caught up in his right now, could put her in danger. Ugh, he was a mess. He had to straighten his head out. Thinking she could be dead. It put things into a whole new perspective. Still, he had to be mindful. She wasn’t a doll for him to pull and push away as pleased. She was his friend now.  

“Thank you for being so honest with me. It’s nice to know another elf is looking out for me.”

“I’m sure Sera will watch your back too.” Was his slightly playful reply as he turned back to the main camp.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you for reading and wow 1000+ kudos!? WHAT?! You're amazing!


	32. I Walked With You...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while since I updated, but to prevent lag between updates I decided to write several chapters in advance. So even if I have writers block I have something to post! Thanks for all your support and patience guys! <3
> 
> In other news! I got more fan art go check it out, it's painting of Ceirw by an amazing artist, thanks again btw! - http://lycheepit.tumblr.com/post/121077892787/aurceirw-lavellan-she-isnt-my-inquisitor-shes

Skyhold was a day’s journey away. Camp had been set up as the sun began to set in the twilight sky and Solas found himself sat around a smaller more private campfire. With recent events he didn't feel like swapping stories and jokes with the rest of camp. His mind was occupied with thoughts about Corypheus and the war that was on the rise. He was finished with self-hatred and blame. He had made many mistakes in the past but only the future was important. Dread shook through his body at the thought of Corypheus conquering his magic. That was at least one thing he had been honest about. He didn't know what Corypheus was or how he managed to do what he was doing, or worst of all his long term goals .Neither did he understand why Ceirw held some of his magic. Corypheus had made it abundantly clear that that was not part of his plan. Solas had many thought’s to wallow on at his little camp-fire. At least that had been his plan. To sit and brainstorm what could only be the biggest war he’d seen since the rise of the Tevinter Imperium.

Originally he was alone staring into the embers, Cole had gone off to sleep, presumably. Without the spirit beside him Solas expected solitude to dwell on his thoughts, but much to his surprise and not entirely to his discomfort, Varric joined him. In the months that had past Varric had proven himself a strong ally to the inquisition and to Ceirw. Solas couldn’t deny that there was a respect for the dwarf. Perhaps even a personal fondness. From what Solas could decipher about the dwarf he was a joker but held a strong sense f moral. After all, it was no secret that he was with The Champion of Kirkwall through ten years.Solas had to wonder, what it was that made Varric risk his life for an apostate from Fereldan. Love was a large factor he imagined, though platonic of course. At least that's the vibe Solas got from reading the dwarf's books and searching the fade.He also got the strong sense that Varricjust wanted to live in a world that wasn't tearing at the seams around him. The dwarf was smart and honourable and if not fondness, Solas had to admit to himself that he held him in a respected regard. 

Solas turned expectantly looking over Varric. The stocky dwarf took a seat nearby and outstretched his large hands outward to the fire.  A small sigh of relief escaped Varric’s mouth at the warm sensation. It was no shock to Solas that Varric took such comfort in the heat. Walking around with his chest so exposed like, despite the fur coat on it, he must have been freezing. Not allowing his eye’s to linger on Varric’s chest for more than a second, they flickered back to the camp fire.

 

“You know, Chuckles.” Varric started. Solas rolled his eyes at the nickname. Perhaps there was a time when it would be appropriate but it was clear that Varric used it sarcastically. Solas couldn’t help but think, was there anything wrong with being serious? Life wasn’t a joke. His role in life was certainly not a joke, why in Thedas should he waste time on satire? Hobbies and studies were an essential necessity, but joking? That may be how some people cope with war, but it's not how he did. Not for a long time at least.

“I think that kid has really taken to you.” The blond dwarf inclined his head and Solas followed his gaze to where Cole’s vessel had set up a tent. Solas’ eye’s moved back to Varric, narrowing at the man curiously. He had noticed that Varric had taken to Cole in the past few days of travel. Odd that a dwarf would take so well to a spirit, but still it was plain to see. It had never occurred to Solas before that Varric might be a father or…might have been one. He certainly was old enough, that might also explain the playful demeanour. Still, father or not, Solas had seen human and elves turn on spirits because of old superstitions and miss-tellings. He fully suspected that Varric would do the same. More so because he was a dwarf. With no real link to the spirit world, the unknown was bound to be fearful.

“Yes. He has a connection to the fade. I believe him to be a spirit. I’m sure when we get to Skyhold it will become a more weighted discussion.” Solas replied a little defensively and somewhat stiffly. “I can’t imagine Vivienne would approve.” The human circles rarely practised friendship building with compassionate spirits. 

Varric’s initial reply was a simple nod. That surprised Solas even more. He was sure the revelation that Cole was a spirit would spark a fear of unknown into the dwarf, yet there Varric sat. “He seems like a good kid. Kid like that needs friends.” Varric said meeting Solas’ eyes with his own as though he could read the elven mage’s thoughts.

“Commendable. It is good to know Cole has the support of us both.”

“Oh come on, Chuckles!” Varric scoffed with a small grin. “You don’t really think we’re the only ones who’re going to watch out for the kid. Lavellan’s going to stand up for him, heck he came to our door to warn us, how could she not?” A world where Ceirw embraces spirits and the fade and isn't afraid of the big bad dread wolf. What a world that would be to live in. 

“You forget our herald is both Dalish and a mage. Cole is a human possessed by a spirit two things her clan will have taught her to fear from a very young age. Do you really think she won’t be at all suspicious?” Solas retorted, glancing past the fire to where Sera and Ceirw joked at the other end of camp. It hurt to admit, but deep down Solas held an inkling that Ceirw would not take to Cole. She was kind, but all his run ins with the Dalish had taught him that they were wary of humans. Ceirw may have shown kindness and mercy to elves in Arlathan, but Solas worried she could not understand Cole. Only days ago a once human abomination tried to kill her and nearly succeeded. It would make him a little disappointed but not surprised to find out she didn't trust Cole. 

“You think she’s racist? That’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard! You’ve seen her with Dorian.” Varric joked back, not even trying to suppress his chuckle. “She’s taken to him like a nug to a wrangler.”

The metaphor was somewhat lost on Solas and it must have shown on his face. Still, he got the point Varric was trying to make. Despite Dalish upbringings Ceirw had managed to find a friend in Dorian. Still, Dorian was a mage, that lead to some equal ground. The real surprise was that Ceirw could overlook Dorian's Tevinter background. In another world she could have been his slave.

“I did not mean that. I simply meant that humans and spirits who can read minds would put even the most trusting of elven mages at caution.”

“But not you?”  Varric quipped back, raising a brow to the elf.

“So it seems.”

“You know, Chuckles. I once knew a guy, human, spirit, all rolled into one. He spent years pushing people who cared away and in the end he found out, that despite everything someone loved him and maybe if he realised that sooner he wouldn't have been so miserable and no one would have gotten hurt.”

 

Solas digested the words confused by the sentiment behind them. He knew stories of Anders, so the reveal of Varric knowing such a person held no shock. It did explain why Varric might be so friendly to Cole.  Anders was bound to a spirit of justice who lead to him destroying the chantry. Solas could only assume it was guilt for allowing that to happen that lead Varric to seek out understanding with Cole. Whatever the motive, Solas was sure then, that the dwarf would support Cole as long as he deserved it.

“Perhaps you are correct, but I doubt Cole will be pushing people away. As a spirit of compassion he will be seeking them out.” Solas concluded.

 “I never said Cole was the one pushing people away. I said I knew a guy who was so full of prejudice and fear or what people might think, that he didn't let anyone get close or trust anyone enough.” Varric replied, looking pointedly at Solas; unsure of what to reply, they both fell into a comfortable silence until either of them got up from the fire.

Varric's words definitely gave Solas lots to think about. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Solas stood in the room he was to claim as his own space. It was a circular rotunda and in decent shape. As one of Josephine helper’s placed a desk in the centre of the room, Solas gazed at the walls, turning in degrees to study them. It had been years since he partook in frescoes. It was a delicate art that helped him escape, depicting tales that he’d hear. Of course back in Arlathan the tales he heard were of himself and Dirthamen. Here the stories were of Ceirw. Skyhold would become her empire and whilst she may be no queen he hoped she would become the hero of thedas who stopped the breach. After everything he'd done she deserved that much. An underlying fear was something he had seen far too often in the past. He worried that maybe all this power would corrupt Ceirw. Solas had seen even the most commendable beings darkened by power and the special kind of lust it brings.

As though his thoughts were spoken aloud, Ceirw stepped into the room, clapping a hand down on Solas’ shoulder. “What’s on your mind, Solas?” He was hardly going to admit it was her and the legacy she may one day lead.

“Fresco.” He replied somewhat honestly. “The walls are bare and whilst I’m not much of labourer, I have studied the art of fresco in the past.”

“Doesn't that take a lot of work?” Ceirw asked, eyeing him and analysing. He was so unsure of what she was seeing. In another world he hoped she’d be looking with admiration. In this was he could only assume it was suspicion.

“Everyone’s entitled to a hobby. Dorian appears to have settled on reading books.” Solas replied motioning at Dorian in the process. Ceirw followed his gaze upward to where Dorian was standing helping some of the holds servants stack the library shelves. “Then there’s Varric, who will be the one writing those books.” Solas concluded with a small smile.

“I suppose you’re right.” Ceirw smirked back. The smirk drew Solas’ eye’s to her lips and whilst he chastised himself mentally, he knew Ceirw’s eye’s followed his own. It took a moment, but he drew his eye’s away. He was sure she was smirking twice as much now.

“What, may I ask will you be spending your free time doing?” Solas asked after a slight cough. To both clear his throat and the thick tension that he felt in the air.

“You mean other than saving the world and fighting bad guys?” Ceirw chuckled back and Solas couldn’t help but smile a little. Was it bad of him to be so opposed to Varric's satire making light of their situation and then so easily melt into Ceirw's humour? Perhaps he should work on that.

“You’re joking, but with the mark and your recent injuries at Haven, it’s important to stay relaxed. This isn’t just a fight, it’s a war.” He replied, it was his nature to be serious when it came to matters of war, particulary with this one looking like it was going to be a long haul.

“Maybe joking helps me stay relaxed? We can't all be painters.” She countered, raising a brow to Solas. She had him there. “Serioulsly. I’ve been talking to Dorian about necromancy, I want to study it.”

“Why choose such an esoteric  area of study?” It wasn't a connection Solas would have made. Only day's before had he been sat with Varric accusing the Dalish and Ceirw of being contrary to spirits. Although in afterthought, he recalled back in Haven that Ceirw had commented on blood magic. She didn't sound very against it, which was...surprising. 

“Perhaps studying such magic will help me better understand spirits.”She said surprising him once again. 

He was silent for a moment, aware of her watching his face intently. It's as though his reaction was important. Perhaps she was trying to guage what reaction's necromancy might do for her reputation. He couldn't be sure.

“While our fight affords little time for formal study, the wise can better themselves even in the midst of battle.”Solas said unequivocally after his silent thoughts. "Perhaps especially then. I hope your new studies serve you well.”

“So you approve?” Ceirw further asked in reply to his answer. There was a beaming smile on her face, a type of grin that could allow someone to count every tooth. It was astounding to him that his educational and adept opinion on these matters could resonate such joy from someone. Particularly someone so powerful that they could choose to do whatever they like. It's not as though his opinion was going to suddenly shatter the belief of all the people who looked up to her.

 “You don’t need my approval. You’re the inquisitor. A demi-god to many.”

 Ceirw burst into a grin as though that were even possible and Solas watched as her amber eyes rolled in reply. How she managed to remain humble he didn’t know. Many people in her position would have taken the faith for granted. Perhaps it was because Ceirw wasn’t Andtrastian. He highly doubted the dalish would approve of such a thing.

“I don’t need your approval.” She agreed, “But I do care what you think. You always give me good council Solas.”

Solas met her smile and for time that he couldn't count they just smiled at each other. She smiled so freely, strangely so happy in her current situation, looking at the bright side of the turn of events that brought them here. She was so open to him that he couldn't begin to question why she sought his council. Was his advice really so good? His own smile must have been a shadow of what it once could and would have been. Everything was careful and thought out. Even smiling like they were. The silence around them was growing near deafening to him but still they remained in each others eyes. Then he saw something he was sure he must have misunderstood. Ceirw's eye's were suddenly hooded,beneath her thick dark blonde lashes. Maybe he was reading too much into things, but they were so close to each other.When had they gotten so close? The memory of the first time she had wanted him to kiss her stung in his mind. It had been just after Andruil's ball. Back then the idea of it was somewhat unwelcome. Now...Now it was all he could think of. Maybe he should? All he had to do was lean in. 

"Do you mind if we speak outside?" Ceirw interrupted his thoughts, turning away and motioning to the exit, killing both his thoughts and the moments in an instance. Of course he had read the situation wrong. He needed to watch his feelings and not allow the to cloud his judgement. "The dust in the air is causing havoc on my nose." 

"Of course. What did you wish to discuss." Solas, said making for the door.   
  
"Oh you know. Elves, Corypheus, dreams and spirits." Ceirw chuckled. Solas' own reply was to gulp an gulp hard. Things were going to be difficult it seemed. 

 


	33. ...Once Upon A Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to finish this story, and with the new DLC coming out soon, I am so motivated! 
> 
> If you're still with me, thank you! It's been almost a year and you've really hung on. I'll finish this for you, I mean it! <3

Solas walked the barracks with Ceirw, the evening turned into night around them as Solas counselled Ceirw. Informing her about the foci and Corypheus was easier than he thought, lying was easier that he thought. He felt a surprising lack of guilt with his words, but it was no doubt because deep down he knew he was protecting her. As stars littered the sky, enveloping them in a dark blanket of nothing but faint light, Solas was curious to find Ceirw had animated a wisp of glowing green light. It was a small simple gesture that stopped them from strolling in darkness but more so than that, it was a symbol that she wanted to be with him and talk to him no matter the time of day. It fascinated Solas despite him pulling away they both found comfort in one another.   
  
Solas stood at Lavellan’s side, hands clasped behind his back, posture straight but relaxed. Together they took barefooted steps and he watched her in interested side glances as they conversed. “Solas, I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate how much you’ve helped me. With your advice and insight, I might not need to gamble so much when it comes to confronting Corypheus.” Ceirw said kindly,  her face creased with relief and exhaustion. As flattered as Solas was it was clear the inquisitor was tired, no matter how much her reddened eyes gazed up at him. He was considering suggesting they call it a night when she spoke once more.   
  
“As interesting as all this has been, I’d really like to know more about you.” Her questions wasn’t an interrogation, it was genuine and curious like she was and his lips twitched upwards at her curiosity. In the long run it may have been kinder to just shrug Ceirw off and call it a night, recoil into his own little world of introversion but he was selfish. He and Ceirw exchanged stories once long ago but now she knew little about him, and it was strange and unusual to know so much of her and in return she know so little of him. That, and his ego light up like fire inside of him. Remnants of Fen’Harel ached to impress and wonder her.   
  
After all those years. “You continue to surprise me.” Solas replied warmly. “Let us talk more, preferably somewhere more interesting than this.” He moved his hand in a swift gesture motioning to the doorway and for Ceirw to take the lead. With a cocked brow she gingerly walked back into the hold, tossing a look over her shoulder to make sure she was going the right way. Solas stayed on her heels nodding Ceirw forward to every door they approached. Eventually they found themselves in the main hall, which was rather quiet. Hardly a surprise at this time but Solas noted even Varric wasn’t at his usual perch, that made things easier.   
  
Solas indicated that Ceirw should head to her quarters and took a moment to pause at the door himself, stood tall in his serious posture he didn’t let slip of his plan. At the realisation that Solas was asking to join her in quarters Ceirw grew a humorous smirk, the raised brow never straying from her face. He watched as she deliberated what could be so interesting about her room. Clearly letting her curiosity once more gain her better, she stepped aside and grandly motioned for Solas to step inside, somewhat mocking his own motioning from before.   
  
The air between them grew thicker as the door closed and though he didn’t want to admit it to himself, Solas felt a tad nervous. He was so preoccupied on the grandeur of impressing Ceirw with magic that he hadn’t realised how forward his actions might make him seem in reality. Regardless, he found Ceirw looking more suspicious than flattered by the choice of venue and so he at least hopped she thought him nosey as opposed to sleazy.   
  
“So this is my ‘interesting’ room.” Ceirw said with a light chuckle full of snark. “I take it the real reason we’re here is so you can share your secrets without all of Skyhold finding out?” The room at hand was still in the middle of being decorated. So far of all the rooms in Skyhold it was the cleanest and the one with the most furniture. Ceirw had moved up in this world far beyond what many dalish elves ever would.   
  
“You’re right in assuming I don’t want the whole of Skyhold knowing my life story.” Solas replied, his tone trailing some faint whiffs of humour to which Ceirw smiled.   
  
“Great, I’ll light a fire and then we can get talking!” Ceirw said cheerfully moving towards the fire. Now was the fun part. As she stepped past Solas turning her back to him he raised his hands immediately casting a spell. He watched her whole back stiffen with shock, holding it intensely for a mere few seconds before relaxing entirely. He stepped forward quickly to catch her falling form as it collapsed from the weight of the spell. A small part of him felt bad for deceiving her, but a large part of him felt like his once older self. It was a playful trick that he was sure she would appreciate.   
  
Carrying her sleeping form over to the bed, Solas dared not to look down at her peaceful face. Instead he considered where in the fade to show her. He wanted to show her so many places but perhaps that was all best left for another time. There was one place she’d spent a lot of time that meant a lot to both of them, Haven. A place she might never see again after recent events. Corypheus had made it a grave site.   
  
Solas placed a cover of Lavellan’s sleeping body, sparing her a glance as he walked away to exit the room.   
  
“Why here?” Her words were confused as she stepped behind him in the snow. Solas could judge by her lack of other questions that she wasn’t fully aware. Which was all the more fun for him. He presumed she’d come to realisation soon.   
  
“Haven is familiar. It will always be important to you.” He stated simple, crunching through the snowy ground. He felt so much more comfortable here, not Haven but the fade. The fade held so many illusions that he didn’t feel like he had to be one of them. As they walked a familiar buzz in the air informed him Wisdom was nearby watching. It made him smile to know his friend could see this. He was glad he had pushed for a friendship with Ceirw. It was a strain at first but now it felt natural minus the odd moments of tension his one sided feelings might rise between them. Now fortunately was not one of those moments.   
  
“Haven’t we talked about that already?” Well it was clear she didn’t forget asking him about himself.   
  
Stepping into the all too familiar dungeon cells he spoke calmly, “ I sat beside you while you slept studying the anchor.” ‘Worrying I’d killed you’, he add the latter in mental afterthought.   
  
“Thank you, I’m glad someone was watching over me.” Solas could feel her eyes on him, but he kept his own fixated on the ground where the both sat many months ago. They stood in silence letting the words sink in between them.  
  
“You were a mystery.” He said blankly, turning to face Ceirw finally. He met her eyes, like pools of liquid gold boring into his own. His whole face softened at meeting her gaze. He never did come to a full explanation of how she came to be in his life. Nor did she fail to still fascinate him. “You still are.” The words were spoken as a compliment. “ I ran every test I could image, searched the fade…yet nothing. Cassandra suspected duplicity. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn’t produce results.”   
  
Ceirw looked more amused than baffled with his proclevation. “Cassandra’s like that with everyone.”   
  
He laughed in return, a loud laugh. With it, his whole body relaxed and all tension left him. A rare moment of freedom, letting his guard down. Something he wouldn’t do outside the fade or around someone he didn’t care for as deeply as Ceirw. She was always far more easy to forgive than dalish he had met in the past. Cassandra was lucky in that respect.   
  
Solas turned from the dark dungeon to the inviting light of outer Haven once more, masking his grin in the process. “You were never going to wake up.” His words started with nonchalance but grew more genuine as he added, “How could you? A mortal sent physically through the fade!” No mortal had made such a feat since the black city, or so it was to his knowledge.   
  
“I know, I’m truly magical.” Ceirw boasted playfully.   
  
“I was…frustrated, frightened.” He found many of his fear centered around Ceirw, not all, but enough to make her an unwelcome fear amongst all the other mistakes he’d made recently. Drawing his gaze over Ceirw’s shoulder he looked beyond the illusion of Haven and outward to where Wisdom would be listening. “The spirits I might have consulted had be driven away by the breach.” His tone was not accusatory, he didn’t blame wisdom, his words were only to assure both wisdom and Ceirw the thought had crossed his mind. “Although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra nor she in me. I was ready to flee.”   
  
His honesty must have startled her. Perhaps it hadn’t occurred to her how precarious his situation was at the beginning of the inquisition. Could it really be news that Ceirw wasn’t the only apostate that the chantry and Cassandra in particular was wary of? In the warrior’s defense she had every right to be wary of Solas. He’d have to have a funny sense of irony to get angry at her for that. What he couldn’t appreciate was the suspicion based soley on him being elven and a hedge mage.   
  
“I’m glad you didn’t run. Cassandra would have been sure of your guilt and hunted you down.” Ceirw’s smile fell a little at the idea. Solas met her words with a nod. She was right. Cassandra would have and he wouldn’t have blamed her.   
  
Ceirw stood infront of him with thoughts on her mind and a look in her eyes he couldn’t discern.  She watched him carefully and so taking it as a cue to go on, he turned somewhat dramatically. With his hand raised high in the air he declared, “ I told myself; one more attempt to seal the rifts.” His eye’s  fixated on the fake breach the hallucination in the fade had conjured to reflect Haven. “I tried and I failed. No ordinary magic would affect it.” Ordinary magic was all he had left without his foci or the power that Ceirw had absorbed from it. He went on to the explain that he resigned himself to flee, the memory so sudden in his mind.   
_  
Another demon sprang from the rift and he shot an icy blast of magic at it. In days gone past he would have the darkened spirit destroyed with one blow, but without his full power he was as helpless as Varric. Varric was an admirable dwarf. He stood at Solas' side shooting arrow after arrow, from a frankly intelligent device that Solas himself would not have thought to create._

_As the monster he fought broke Solas' barrier the man's eyes shifted to left. He would have to run. Perhaps find Mythal and try to fix this mess. His blue eyes fell back onto the creature before him just in time to watch it fall back and burn up to dust, incinerated by a vicious bolt of lightning. His sharp eyes turned to Varric who put a final arrow into his demon, and for the first time since they started fighting the area was secure. With the rift still open, it would not last long._

_Then out of the corner of his eye, there she was. Panting breathlessly, hair askew and eyes full of questioning. For the first time in thousands of years he saw those beautiful golden eyes staring with wonder once more. They did not stare at him. They looked to the pulsing green tear in the veil behind him. It was a shock to the senses and he grabbed her wrist._

_"Quickly! Before more come through!"_  
  
  
  
Repeating words similar to what he had back then he turned, ending the dramatics to say, “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.” A small and playful smile pulling at his lips, he looked to Ceirw in awe. “You had sealed in a gesture.” The remark was as flippant as Ceirw’s actions were to the breach. “Right then, I felt the whole world change.”   
  
Ceirw took the words in and shock appeared on her face, the bewilder look to his words was not one he had suspected. He couldn’t fatholm what she was mulling over in her mind but the elf’s whole posture shifted. She looked unsure, shy even. She didn’t look like the inquisitor he had come to know but the woman who didn’t know how to act at Andruil’s ball. He felt briefly worried he’d said something wrong.   
  
“You felt the whole world change?” She eventually uttered back. Perhaps he had said something wrong. Her eyes fixated on his face, and he in turn took in her inquisitive features. His own eye’s turned downward at her analytical gaze. Solas couldn’t grasp what she was getting at. Perhaps she didn’t understand that he meant emotionally, not physically?   
  
“A figure of speech.” He offered as way of an explanation, a light smile on his lips to ease the tension. At her lack of reply, Solas looked up to find Ceirw watching him intently.   
  
“I’m aware of the metaphor Solas.” She informed him in a hushed voice. “I’m more curious about the ‘felt.’”   
  
What could he say? There she was in front of him an examining look her in eyes and caution in her smile. He wanted to say so much. He wanted endlessly to tell her the truth and how mistaken he was and how much he loved her. A lump grew in his throat. Had he been anywhere else in the void at that moment he might have given a different answer, but he was in the fade. In his own domain he felt so confident; this was all a dream to her. It was a dream to him. He was Fen’harel ruler of dreams and if he couldn’t be honest here where could he be?  
  
“You…” He started in a hushed voice, as Ceirw stepped closer to catch his words. She… she what? She changed the way he perceives elves in this time? She changed how he treated beings in general. “You change…Everything.” He meant those words more than she could ever know. His words had been put out there and there was no getting them back. What was said was said.    
  
“Heh, charmer.” Ceirw whispered back with a slight chuckle and Solas had to look away. He hadn’t ruined their friendship? Surly not! The thoughts tearing through his mind were embarrassing. How could a woman no older than her thirties manage to make him feel like that? How could she make him crumble and become so weak? Andruil was right in mocking him so long ago, he was a mess. He thought maybe after years of sleep he could harden his heart. He had to think of something to say, he had to lighten the tension and not stand there like a moronic man!  
  
The warmth of Lavellan’s hands sparked him to attention as she unabashedly turned his face to her own. In the brief seconds of thought he hadn’t noticed her move closer. Her soft skin cupped his face and pulled it inwards. In an instance his lips crashed against Ceirw’s and the tingling of the fade kiss made him breathless. He was so in shock by her sudden action that he stood motionless to her soft lips eagerly pressing to his own. In the closeness he watched her eyes open and look at him embarrassed. She must have mistook his not returning the kiss as rejection instead of surprise.   
  
Pulling back with a face full of doubt Ceirw moved to turn away. Solas watched with conflicted emotions, on the one hand he could let her go and that would be the end of it. She would be too proud to try again. If he let her walk away then all the complications of the past and the future could be avoided. In retrospect that would have been the smart choice, but he couldn’t shake the tingling feeling in his lips. With a light shake of his head for his own foolishness he reached out perilously and grabbed Ceirw’s arm, hungrily pulling her back to him and to the kiss. It was selfish in itself, but it wasn’t real life. It was the fade and in the fade dreams come true if only for a moment. Ceirw sank into his arms and he cupped her waist. As her tongue met his, their legs became a tangle where they stood. Unlike the previous kiss, this one was full of passion. This was a kiss that had been building for longer than he had realised. Ceirw’s nails grazed the back of his neck, just beneath the skull, teasing at the collar of his tunic. As her hands grew more unruly and her tongue flicked his own playfully, he found his own hands slipping down her waist and reaching for rear. In reply Ceirw moaned into the kiss.   
  
The moan was the shock Solas needed to wake him from his lustful state. He pulled back from the kiss to find Ceirw’s hooded eye’s looming up at him through dark, thick lashes. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and the smile on her face was mesmerising. What was he doing? She was going to be the death of him. Another shake of the head and he leaning in for another, their lips touched for a brief moment when another thought slammed the brakes in his mind, ‘he could be the death of her.’   
  
He pulled back dazed and happy and utterly conflicted, this time she moved to go with him and he had to gently place an hand on her arm. “We shouldn’t.” He informed breathless. “It isn’t right, not even here.” After all he’d done this was like lying.   
  
Ceirw let him step back and he was thankful she didn’t mention the former part of his statement; instead she focused on the latter. “What do you mean even here?”   
  
Solas repressed a wolfish grin and playfully tilted his head, to which Ceirw amused and suspicious, narrowed her eyes. “Where did you think we were?”   
  
Through everything he found it hard to believe that Ceirw hadn’t realised she was in the fade. For all her good traits, her talents with the fade needed serious work. It took another two beats and her looking around to realise. “None of this is real is it?” She almost sounded sad.   
  
“That’s a matter of debate, probably best discussed when you… _Wake up_.” His final words were a whisper and he watched as the shocked form of Aur’Ceirw Lavellan disappeared before his eyes. In the heartbeat that she vanished in a smirk pulled on to his face. Was it egotistical of him to flaunt tricks like that infront of her? Probably, did he care? Not at all.   
  
“Do you think kissing her was a wise choice?” The voice of his old friend called out from the unseen corners of the fade.   
  
“Perhaps not.” He replied, leaving the dream world behind and waking himself, leaving Wisdom with the sentiment, “Only time will tell.” 


	34. Don't Dream it. Be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey beautiful people! Sorry for the delay,I needed to play the DLC oviously it confirms lore that contradicts with this story, so whilst I'll bend the story to fit I will not change anything already written making everything previous canon in previous chapters so not to worry!
> 
> Anyway here you go!<3

Solas had woke up smiling, that was not something he done often, but for a few seconds a smile was well deserved. It spread unabashedly across his face. The reality was that he had a lot to consider. Ceirw was amazing, but he had to focus on other things, bigger things. Was spending time falling in love with her all over again worth risking Corypheus and the pantheon. He had work to do. Important work. His love life wasn’t the most important thing at present.

 Solas pushed up from his bed, thankful that he didn’t need to sleep in his little study. Although the room he had been given had a few holes in it, something to be desired, but he had slept in worse states. With a yawn he stretched up and walked over to the chair where his tunic lay. It was early yet and he didn’t expect to be confronted by Ceirw until later. Regardless he didn’t expect her to look for him in his own chambers. Chances were he’d be in his rotunda before Ceirw questioned him. Giving him enough time to think things over, over breakfast.   
  
Exiting his small, simple room; Solas made his way to the kitchen. Unsurprisingly Varric was already there. The dwarf sat at one of the two dining tables. In one hand he had a cup of what Solas assumed was tea, in the other hand he held a quill. In front of Varric sat Blackwall with a plate of eggs, ham, warm bread and some dark gelatine substance that Solas couldn’t quite identify.  Besides those two and some kitchen servants, the room was empty. In recent time Solas had come to accept that many of Skyhold’s other residents had particular schedules. Cassandra would be outside for an early morning run with Cullen and the troops. Iron Bull enjoyed a long lie in, as did Sera. Vivienne would be with Josephine discussing Skyhold’s interior, and when Ceirw awoke she’d be meeting with Dorian for tea in her quarters and then coming to the kitchen accompanied by him.

 

Informing one of the elven kitchen staff that he wanted porridge as usual, the elf moved to take a seat beside Varric. In the past beckoning a servant or slave wouldn’t have cause much tension on Solas’ mind, but seeing a kitchen full of one human cook and several elven servants irritated him. Logically it made no sense to be annoyed. Perhaps it was to do with the knowledge that his people had fallen so low in life. In another time that kitchen boy could easily have been a noble. Still, it didn’t do dwelling on it. That was all part of a bigger picture he had in mind. At that present moment he had other mistakes to dwell on and other causes to fight for. He also had to spare himself a moment to be happy about last night’s reveal. Ceirw fell for him. She wanted him regardless of his stature and title. In the past their situation was different, their lives forced together. Now, she was surrounded by many friends and many suitable suitors and she still choose him. It’s not that he had little self-worth, the opposite in fact. Solas just couldn’t believe that him being a ‘god’ had no factor in her feelings all that time ago. What could she see in him that he couldn’t?

“You with us, Chuckles?”   
  
The words brought the crashing realisation that Solas had been lost in thought. He blinked one quickly to gather himself and looked up to find Blackwall staring at him from across the table. To his left Varric was also staring. Asserting himself and interlocking his fingers, the elf merely nodded. Blackwall turned back to his eggs in response and Varric laughed him off returning to his writing.   
  
“I was starting to think you’d fallen back asleep.” Varric jested. The dwarf’s eyes narrowed as he re-read his own writing, quill hanging in the air. Still, he managed to continue his conversation with both Solas and Blackwall. “Blackwall was just mentioning Cole. It appears our very own madame de fer is livid.” Solas repressed a scoff. It was no secret that Vivienne didn’t care for anything magical beyond the grasps of the chantry’s clutches; apostates, spirits, and demons. None of them could be trusted as far as the knight enchanter was concerned.   
  
“Indeed, I heard Cassandra asking if Cole was a mage last night. Lady Vivienne insisted he was a demon.” Blackwall informed in his gruff tone.  
  
“Neither is correct.” Solas assured them both, though he was sure Varric knew as much already. He was worried for Cole, and he knew Ceirw would have the overall say. After everything the spirit had done for them it’s the least the inquisition could do to keep him sheltered. “What’s to happen to the boy now?” He asked, edging that Blackwall might have more information on the matter.   
  
“No idea.” He said between bites. “No one remembers seeing him, for all we know he’s gone.” Blackwall shrugged uncaring to the subject. Although, Solas was sure he caught Varric smirking into his letter.   
  
“Carta business?” Solas asked as porridge was placed in front of him. Varric looked up from the parchment to find both Blackwall and Solas staring down at the letter.   
  
“If you must know I have a friend arriving in a couple of days.” The dwarf flashed a wide grin that left Solas fully aware there was no point in prodding for more information. It did not take a genius to educate a guess as to which friend it might be, given the current situation. Varric had dealt with Corypheus in the past and he wasn’t alone in doing so. Solas couldn’t deny that it would be interesting to meet the human saved all of Kirkwall from a Qunari invasion. Mythal certainly viewed highly of the woman. Solas looked forward to meeting her. People were never like the stories and having read Varric’s books, Solas was interested to see what was true and what was myth when it came to Hawke.  
  
The three men continued to discuss light topics, mostly Skyhold’s repairs. After a few minutes and halfway into his bowl of porridge, Solas heard the door creak open. A familiar noise hit his ears and he stiffened immediately; spoon frozen in his hand. Dorian’s voice charmingly filled the room and Solas knew full well that Ceirw would be accompanying him. It was unusual for them to enter the kitchen before Solas had left or was leaving. For whatever reason the pair had woke up early. It didn’t take Solas much of a ventured guess to assume he had something to with Ceirw being here so timely. She wouldn’t confront him in front of others would she? She so often acted in the moment that to a fault, he worried she’d just out him as a dream seducer in front of their companions.   
  
Dorian took a seat beside Blackwall and then Ceirw took one beside Dorian, leaving her indirectly across from him. Looking over to the two he briefly caught Dorian’s smug grin and then Ceirw’s bashful smile. Had she said something to Dorian? Of course she had, or had she? There was two ways Solas could handle this he could be smooth or he could be oblivious. The latter was out of the question, he didn’t want to hurt her, and he didn’t want to embarrass her. He also didn’t want to set anything in stone. His mind was reeling; maybe Ceirw didn’t think it meant anything. If he couldn’t be oblivious, that left him one choice. Smooth.   
  
“Sleep well?” He asked in a warm tone, a smile playing on his lips as he directed the question at Ceirw. Neither Varric or Blackwall seemed intrigued by this, it was a simple question and left little for either of them to read into.   
  
Noting their audience it appeared Ceirw was mulling her answer over. Whilst he remained overall stoic her face beamed happiness and her grin stretched across her face, only to be outdone by the smug one of Dorian’s. Solas suspected the mage would make a remark soon enough. “Yes. I have to say it was interesting.” Ceirw opted to answer after the pause. “Can’t say it’s like anything I’ve ever experienced before. On a number of levels.” If her latter remark didn’t catch Blackwall and Varric’s attention, Solas’ laugh did. With three men staring at them, both Ceirw and himself took a moment to compose.  
  
“Something you want to share with the rest of us?” Varric asked, his once important letter now left disregarded as he exchanged looks between Solas and Ceirw. His words dripped the curiosity of a man who knew he was out of the loop. Varric was a storyteller and if there was a story or gossip to be had he wanted to know.   
  
Solas cleared his throat and turned eye to Ceirw. Personally, he wished to state that it was no one but his and her business. However, their present audience would no doubt ignore him and further pester Ceirw until they got an answer. He didn’t even know what they were or what they were doing, how could either of them answer a question like that? Somewhat relieved he saw Ceirw’s biting her lower lip and looking at Solas for answers. It appeared both them were quite lost on the situation.   
  
“Solas taught me to wander the fade whilst I slept. It was remarkable.” Ceirw decided to answer, and she wasn’t technically lying. Her answer seemed to suffice because both Varric and Blackwall seemed a little disappointed. Dorian much to Solas’ surprise had remained quiet through-out.   
The rest of breakfast was made up of silence, chit-chat and stolen looks. As luck would have it Solas finished his porridge whilst Ceirw was still caught up in her own breakfast, giving Solas time to retreat to his study and ponder over what more to say.

 

 

 

  
  
“I apologise, the kiss was impulsive and ill-considered and I should not have encouraged it.” He blurted out as soon as Ceirw entered the rotunda. He was mid mixing paint for his fresco when he caught her swaying in. The words clearly took them both by surprise and to Solas’ dismay Ceirw looked a little hurt by the remark.  
   
Ceirw took a moment to digest his words. Her face flickered from confused to hurt and then finally challenging amusement. “You say that but you’re the one who started with tongue.”

“I did no such thing.”   
  
“Oh does it not count if it’s only fade tongue?” Her brow raised in challenge but her words were more playfully teasing than the accusatory ones he was expecting. Regarless the tip of his ears tiged red at the admission of they’re act out loud. Perhaps he was a little more eager than he remembered.  
  
“It has been a long time and things have always been easier for me in the fade.” He said composing himself and standing straighter as Ceirw moved closer to him. He could tell from the look o her face she didn’t understand his confliction or trepidation. “ I’m not certain this is the best idea, it could lead to trouble.” He was mad to turn down the new chance but the truth was he still had work to do ad she would only deter him. He also had no way of returning her memories and didn’t want to lie with her under false intentions. Him having more knowledge of their past was unfair to Ceirw. Even if she remembered the past, she might have changed her mind. Whilst  in the past nether of tem knew Solas’ plans for the future or how Corypheus got Solas’ orb, but now, now Solas knew of his misdeeds and the more he planned on doing. His mistakes cost Ceirw Haven. Perhaps even remembering the past couldn’t forgive that.  
  
“I’m willing to take the chance if you are.” She said openly and honestly.  
  
Say no. Cut it off right here, right now. “I…May be. Yes. If I could take a little time to think? There are considerations.” Ugh, good job Solas.   
  
“Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.” She smiled kindly and Solas felt a wave of frustration at his own stupidity. He’d need a lot of time to mull things over.  
  
“Thank you. I’m not often overthrown by things that happen in dreams.” Solas replied simply.  
  
“Can you get to the kissing now, some of us are trying to read and at least then I could hear myself think!” Dorian’s familiar sultry drawl came from the rafters above. Solas was so wrapped up in thoughts he never saw the man pass by.  


“Grow up.” Solas said in a strict tone, bowing his head in goodbye to Ceirw who was already side stepping to the door that lead to the library. She found the whole thing rather amusing it seemed.  
  
“Man up.” Came Dorian’s retort, leaving Solas rolling his eyes. 


	35. Tale As Old As Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One year old and longer than the first harry potter book. I'm in shock I've never written anything so big or in-depth and certainly no for so long. 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking around so long. Hopefully there'll be more updates soon and more twists too!

 

Little time had passed since Solas and Ceirw had shared their intimate kiss in the fade. To Solas’ surprise and gratitude Ceirw hadn’t pressed the matter. She’d given him the space he needed to recline in. Normality was all he wanted, no matter how much pretence it took to gain it. Since the kiss Solas often found himself inside the kitchen, chatting with the servant elves there. It was painful to see them reduced to so little and so he would tell them tales of kindness. Tales of Shartan, and tales of what good happened in Arlathan. It was a comfort for him to watch their eyes light in wonder and the thoughts of what once was.  
  
Skyhold in the meantime was on its way to becoming grand. Thanks to Josephine and the workers there; the hold was on route to becoming the perfect base for the inquisition. As Solas passed through Skyhold’s main hall he’d often catch Ceirw being shown various swatches or cloth types. He’d conceal a hidden smile at watching her shrug her shoulders. It was plain for Solas, Josephine and everyone else to see that Ceirw was no carpenter or designer.  The elf had no idea what different statements ivory or eggshell curtains might make. This didn’t surprise Solas. Being dalish, Ceirw must have been used to a life lacking fanciful possessions. Of course that did seem to lead to one strong design ethic. Solas didn’t approve but dalish inspired drapes and windows hardly affected him.

With decorations and other things, skyhold had been busy. Varric for instance was nowhere to be seen. Rumour was he’d been meeting an ‘old friend’ in the north. The stout dwarf had been gone for days and with each one Solas’ intrigue grew. It was a fine distraction from Ceirw, Corypheus and the veil. Varric and his Champion of Kirkwall; the tale brought out the scholar in Solas. He pondered about Hawke. Questioned how a human could face so much, lose much and still come back to help. Varric must be a fierce friend. Of course Solas knew as much already, despite Cassandra’s interrogation the dwarf stayed strong and kept the location of his friend silent. More admirable than that, Varric was now willing to admit his lies to protect the world. Something Solas himself wasn’t even capable of.

Varric was due to be returning to Skyhold according to Leliana’s spies and Solas had every intention of awaiting him in the grounds. He was excited to meet Hawke, though he may not admit it. She was another fascination in Thedas. Mythal’s interest in her is reason alone for Solas to aspire to meet Hawke. That had been the intention at least. The mage himself, was found stuck in an argument with Lady Vivienne. He’d wandered into the grounds to catch the circle mage ranting on about Cole being a demon. How little she knew. It saddened him to see a compassionate and kind spirit such as Cole tormented in this world. Betrayed by the chantry’s idiotic teachings and the fear they brought. It pained him to know there was a time when the veil was nothing but smoke, a world where both living and dead, elvhen and spirit, magical or not could intertwine and now a gifted mage like Vivienne could barely stand to look at Cole.

Cassandra was the unfortunate one stood to listen to Vivenne’s slander. Both women stood strongly and proudly, gifted warriors in their own right, discussing Cole as though he were just a thing and not a being. Cole sat in dirt, contrasting against Cassandra and Vivenne’s serious posture. Solas watched as Cole played like a child; getting his hands soiled as he touched the ground around the flowers, not daring to touch them lest he cause them any pain. For a spirit such as Cole the world must be both a dark and beautiful place.

“Lady Cassandra, he’s a danger to everyone here. He has to go.” Vivienne’s words breezed through the air sending a chill up Solas’ spine. Clasping his hands behind his back he stepped toward the two women and Vivienne looked at him with scrutiny eyes. Surly she couldn’t expect him to agree with her? Solas found the whole idea outrageous, they’d known each other for a  couple of months, long enough for her to know his views.  
  
“If I may,” He said in a soft tone that gathered the attention of Cassandra. “I must disagree; Cole is no more a danger to us than Varric or Dorian.” Perhaps they were not the best examples as Cassandra remained looking unconvinced.

“Are you saying he’s not a mage?”  
  
“Yes, it’s far more complicated.”  
  
“Hardly, darling. He’s an abomination.” Vivienne’s retort came fast and so did Cassandra’s reaction. Her hand moved slight to her sword’s pommel and he brow furrowed deeply. Solas could only thank all he held dear that Comander Cullen wasn’t around to hear the slander.

The aruing continued

Lavellan appears.

“Cole can make people forget who he is or have them fail entirely to notice him, these are not the abilities of a mage. It seems Cole is a spirit.”

“It is a demon.”

“If you preffer, althought the truth is somewhat more complex.”  
  
“Whatever Cole is, he’s good. His warning at Haven saved a lot of lives.” Ceirw looked pointedly at the trio before turning an ironically compassionate look to Cole. “It’s easy to be fearful and distrust people when we’re at war, I know what it’s like to be accused of villainy uncalled for.” The soft words flickered doubt and guilt on Cassandra’s face. Wether Ceirw was being candid or manipulative Solas did not know, he  merely approved that Ceirw didn’t seem to fear Cole. Varric was right.

“Solas, is Ceirw right, what are dealing with?” Cassandra asked. She seemed to be the most frustrated of all five of them.

“Abomination’s are creatures of possession, hideous horrors—“

“But you claim Cole looks like a young man, is it possession?” Cassandra interrupted and her question even brought Ceirw’s curiosity to bay.  
  
“No.” Solas replied a cool crisp tone to all three women. “He has possessed nothing and no one and yet he appears human in all respects, Cole is unique, Ceirw.” His words and he were no directed at the inquisitor. She would have the overall say. He hoped whatever her choice it would not be due to their recent actions. “More than that, he wishes to help. I suggest you allow him to do so.”

“I want to speak him, I won’t throw him out without reason.” Ceirw said in stern voice though her face was reassuring.

As Ceirw left to speak with Cole, Solas was bombarded with questions from Vivienne and Cassandra. Cassandra’s questions appealed to Solas’ knowledge whilst Vivienne questioned his stupidity. It was a sharp contrast and he did his best to answer each question with wit and pride. In the end his   defences of Cole wasn’t needed. Ceirw decided that he was to stay and assured Cassandra that she would watch out for the spirit. It was remarkable to see Ceirw take such responsibility. In the centuries long passed Solas worked to watch out for her and control her. He was foolish to think she needed protecting. ‘The Golden Halla’ was fierce and strong. Aur’ Ceirw was clearly a leader of her herd. It was no doubt why the Dalish initially made her  First to the Keeper. It was clear to Solas that even without the mark of his magic etched into Ceirw’s hand she’d become a leader of great power. She might have brought her clan to great things. He didn’t agree with all her choices, but nobody’s perfect.

 

* * *

 

With Cole welcomed to Skyhold a weight was lifted from Solas’ mind and whilst many more worries raged on, one less was a relief. It took much wandering the grounds but as twilight touched the sky the hedge mage clapped eyes on Varric. Fortunately Cassandra was not there to watch who the dwarf arrived with. The two laughed and joked across the court yard, making their way with haste to no doubt meet Ceirw and hide from Cassandra as long as possible. This was foolish as Solas watched as one of the scouts rushed off red faced from his post in the direction of the Seeker’s room.

An educated guess told Solas that Hawke and Varric were to hide out in the dwarf’s quarters. He paused before following to meet the mage. If Varric intended to introduce Hawke to Ceirw tonight then he wouldn’t want to intervene, however if they were to meet tomorrow and Hawke left straight afterwards, he’d never get to meet her.

Several minutes of debate went on as Solas determined if Hawke was worth meeting. In the end he decided to chance it. He briskly strode across the court yard and into the hold. As he stepped down the torch-lit halls he did his best not to have any pre-conceived expectations. Mythal choosing Hawke to help must have made her special…but then Mythal’s trusted the wrong people before.  
Arriving at Varric’s door, Solas racked his knuckled off the mahogany three times and waited. Through the wood Solas could hear muffled voices and the sound of moving furniture. He tried not to smile as he waited but his lips twitched a little at the playful mischief of it all.

The door opened and Varric stood as tall as the man could at his stature. Upon realising that the night-time knocker was Solas, he relaxed visibily. Behind varric stood a tall figure, she was far more at ease than the dwarf. Hawke stood clad in black and red mage robes worth of a champion. Her heart shaped face was curtained behind full thick waves of silver hair. With a charming grin on her face she looked over Solas with her equally silver eyes. Her skin was icy pale,  and from the scars on her arms Solas could account that to blood-loss and blood magic. Behind Varric she stood like a towering ghost, the only hint that she wasn’t a spirit being the pinkness in the tip of her pointed nose and the dried blood smeared around her right eye.

Matching Solas’ gaze Varric turned around and let out a sigh of annoyance, “I thought I told you to stay hidden, Hawke.”  
  
“And miss all the fun?” She tsked’ as her grin grew wider. “Whose your friend?”  
  
“Chuckles? He’s a very unlikely visitor.” Varric chimed back, stepping to the side and grandly gesturing for the elf to step inside, and so he did.

Hawke was one of the happiest people Solas had seen in recent times, whether it was all a mask he was unsure. In Varric’s tales she always seemed cheerfully sarcastic in the face of danger. Hawke stood there smiling in the face of everything, when her sister died, when her mother was murdered, even when  her apostate lover committed mass murder. Solas wondered if that was what Mythal saw in her. Strength and humour. Something Solas found kept Mythal driven in these long years. It was surly all a front, but admirable none the less. Solas found even the driest of humour kept things grounded and it was no doubt the same for Hawke.

“I am Solas.” He said simply as Varric shut the door behind him. “And you, are Crystal Bethann Hawke.”

“Always nice to meet a fan.” Hawke replied with a greeting nod, sinking into a seat. “It’s just Hawke though.” Solas made note of that.

“So, what’s the real reason you’re here, Chuckles?” Varric asked opting back into the conversation. He didn’t sound suspicious just curious. The dwarf was clearly protective of Hawke. Only Ceirw, Mythal and Wisdom had made Solas feel the same.

“I’ve spent hours in the fade watching re-enactments of spirits, I’ve read the book and heard the rumours, but as a historian… Hearing what the Champion of Kirkwall has to say would be far more fascinating, far more factual. That is if you don’t mind telling me.” Solas countered. As Varric moved to open his mouth Solas quickly added, “I’d rather hear it from the horses mouth so to speak.”  
  
“Then, break out the brandy because we’re in for a long night.” Hawke said with a knowing smirk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter I'll be letting you get to know Hawke better and explain Solas' interest.  
> You'll also get to see some Wisdom headcanons, a surprise with falon'din and a near death experience. 
> 
> Also yes my Hawke is a bloodmage and 'purple/sarcastic'


	36. Nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be once or twice a week until the story is finished.

 

Hawke's stories drew out the long night and as she finally finished explaining her escape from Kirkwall, Solas caught golden light peaking into Varric's room. It was hard to belief most of what Hawke told him. Still it was certainly more believable than Varric's stories. He felt for the woman. She'd lost a great deal of her family and most of it was to no fault of her own. Then again, had Mythal not taken pity, or rather interest in Crystal Hawke, she and her family wouldn't had made it to Kirkwall at all.

"That was fascinating." Solas mused in a low tone. Varric had unfortunately fallen asleep or perhaps passed out after one too many ales. Hawke gave a small tip of her head, letting her white hair cascade down her face. The blood mage in question looked exhausted herself. Solas could use some sleep himself. "I dare say, the truth is more interesting than the fiction."

"Hawke, the myth, the legend...the girl from Lothering who fancied a warden." Hawke chuckled, creasing up her tired eyes. "The reality isn't the kind of story people want to hear. They want martyrs, dragons, seduction... A mage and her friends trying to stop a rebellion and failing is hardly dramatic enough for Varric's readers." Hawke pointed a pale finger at said dwarf as he lay sprawled out asleep atop his bed covers, chest hair shimmering proudly in the early dawn's light.

If Solas learned one thing from Hawke, it was Varric was a formidable friend. "He cares for you a great deal." Solas said matter of factually watching Varric's sleeping form.

"I know." The blood mage replied fondly with a genuine smile. "Varric always tells the story of how I lost my family in Kirkwall, but what he fails to mention is I gained some too."

Hawke let out a yawn and let her shoulders roll back. "Anyways, this has been fun and all, but I have a meeting with the inquisitior and tired eyes make an awful first impression."

"Yes of course, you're right." Solas agreed moving to stand. Before leaving the room entirely he paused, turning his head to the stretching blood mage beside him. "If I may, I have one more question."

"Go ahead, Sunshine." Hawke replied with a tired smile.

"In your story you say Anders initially rejected you, then after everything you'd done together and grew closer, he lied to you, deceived you and used you to blow up the chantry."

"Your point?" She asked smiling less.

"Anders was more than a mage, he was what some might consider an abomination or a spirit... and despite all his actions, you're still with him, still love him, why?"

Hawke raked a pale hand through her white hair, a look of thought rested on her features. She seemed to determine the best way to explain her choices to Solas. He awaited her answer patiently. Perhaps it was wrong of him to draw parallels between Hawke and Anders and himself and Ceirw, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't understand Hawke's point of view on this one.

"Anders...Always wanted to do what was right. It didn't matter if it was good or bad, as long as it was the right thing to do." Hawke explained. "Merging with Justice was right to Anders, it didn't matter if it changed him. Anders saved a lot of people in Kirkwall. He healed those who couldn't afford it, he looked out for me and I, him. All he ever wanted was to be free, as both an elf and a mage that's something you should understand, Solas."  
"I do."

"People talk about war as if it's only good and bad, but sometimes unsavoury actions have to be made. I was angry at Anders choice, but I love him and I forgive him, same as he forgives me for my blood magic." Hawke shook herself from the sombreness of the conversation and let out another yawn. "Besides," She joked, "My blood unlocked Corypheus, in terms of actions I think mine have killed far more than his, so we're even."

Solas let the words sink in and nodded slowly. "Thank you, I understand."

"Great, now can you get out, Chuckles. I'm trying to sleep." Varric grumbled in a tired tone; Hawke laughed and swiftly ushered Solas out of the door. He would think about her words for a while. Maybe Aur'Ceirw would forgive him one day. Hawke made a point, He would not have been able to give the foci to Corypheus if she had not first unlocked him, and it was Corypheus who unlocked the orb for evil, and then cursed Ceirw with his magic. All Solas had done was make mistakes. He should not have taken Ceirw's memories and why he did he can't quite recall or reason. He should not have slept so long that his orb needed unlocked by someone else. He should not have involved Mythal, he should not have affected the veil, and most importantly he should not be considering helping the elves...thoughts that had been circling his mind since he awoke.

 

* * *

 

 

Solas had been asleep for little more than an hour. He stood in the fade with Wisdom and Hope. He spoke with them about a great many things. Initially, Hawke. Then, elves, spirits, Cole and Ceirw. Wisdom listened to his ideas about elven agents and with the words of Hope, they both inspired Solas to consider his choices and options. He would get the orb back from Corypheus and he would start fixing the world he'd made a mess off.

"I must ask your council on my situation with Ceirw." Solas directed to both spirits. Both of them knowing how all his choices would and have affected Lavellan.

"I believe it is wise for you both to find happiness in the time you have. You do not want to make such braisin choices with regrets." Wisdom said.

"And there is still hope that one day you will find a way to be honest, whole and loving of each other. I believe there is a chance for you happiness, Solas."

Solas began mulling over the spirits words, but a shiver in the fade caused him to start.

Solas knew the unusual sense immediately. Ceirw was having a nightmare. He could always feel the echo of her distress across the beyond with the magic that linked them. He turned to bid goodbye and apology to Wisdom and Hope only to find that both spirits had already vanished. A smile spread on his face as he walked the fade to find Ceirw. Solas crunched through 'snow' and found himself frozen with terror as he heard the winds whistling words.

"Get me out of here, Fen'harel." The icy echoes hissed in his ears and he realised that perhaps this nightmare was much less typical than imagined.

  
Lashes of snow whipped across Ceirw's face as she struggled through the blizzard. Her body was tightly wrapped together and she could no longer feel her legs. Her movements languid, she did her best to press forward. For some reason every step she took felt like a step backwards, and the snow in which she walked felt like quicksand. The world around her pulled her down and she could barely breath. She had just escaped Corypheus at Haven and she had to find camp. She questioned how they managed to get so far. How could Roddrick of all people in his condition be so far away?

The wind grew fiercer and her body grew weary. She had to get out. All she could tell herself was how much she needed to get out. As Ceirw sank into the snow she caught shadows from the corner of her eye. Moving around in the blizzard was large black shapes. At first she could not decipher what they were, but as the beasts grew closer she saw clearly that they were giant spiders. She tried to crawl, to stand, anything but no movement was possible, she just lay in the snow splashing as she sunk deeper.

As she flailed voices whistled through the wind surrounding her. "Get up, dear...get up deer. Golden Deer." The voice was as cold as the icy winds that carried it, though Ceirw swore she recognised it from somewhere. "They're coming for you." The voice was persistent but she couldn't get up, she could not do as it asked, despite the spiders and they're ever growing presence.

As the cold began to devour her, and the spiders grew closer, Ceirw closed her eyes. It was a dream. It was all just a bad dream and all she had to do was wake up. As her thoughts ran wild she could hear the pincers of a spider directly beside her. She would not open her eyes. This was all a nightmare and she was going to wake up. A shift in the snow told her the spider to her left had made a lunge at her and despite having her eyes shut she flinched.

Nothing happened.

She still felt the cold harshness of the snow around her, but could no longer hear the spiders. As though unable to control her actions she opened her eyes slowly. Mere inches from her face was that of a mans she hadn't seen before, and yet he seemed oddly familiar. He was pale as the snow they sat in and his eyes as icy as the blizzard. As Ceirw searched his face for a semblance of recognition she tilted his head and watched her.

"Who are you?" She asked through chattering teeth.

The figure laughed and put a single gentle hand on Ceirw's shoulder. "I'm here to take you were you belong."

It was Ceirw's turn to tilt her head, "Where are you taking me?"

"Where I take all the people." The man said pressing his other hand on Ceirw's other shoulder. "I am Falon'Din." The words shattered the world around them like glass and Ceirw's doe eyes grew wider with panic, before she could react she was being buried into the snow with Falon' Din's hands.

 

* * *

 

Ceirw woke up with a scream. She lay in the centre of her large Orleasian bed, covered in a coat of sweat. Her silk sheets had found their way to the floor, no doubt due to kicking and screaming. Her breath was laboured and she felt a weight on her chest, but slowly and surly...looking around the familiar bedroom, she began to calm.

She let her head drop back against the plush pillow that once supported it and let out a groan. She'd been having a few nightmares since Haven. The monster that was Corypheus terrified her, despite her bravery in the moment. He was triple her size and was the most abominable thing she'd ever seen. If she could have, she'd have left the inquisition right there and then. Nothing was quite so harrowing however, as her walk from Haven to the camp after the battle. She would never be able to shake the cold from her bones. Or oddly enough the song from her head that all of the survivors sang. She hated getting songs stuck in her head, particularly over dramatic ones.

She had never before dreamed of Falon' Din, but that didn't surprise her. If her dream was to be interpreted she'd go so far to assume it was her fear of death. After all, her latest line of work was the most dangerous job in Thedas.

  
  


 

 


	37. Chapter 37

A knock at the door jolted Ceirw from her thoughts. Curiosity marred her face as she looked to the window. It was barely light out, still too early for anyone to need her. Still, her curiousity would always get the better of her and she was awake. Ceirw rolled herself from the bed and walked to the top of her stairs, looking down to the wooden door at the bottom of them.  
  
"Come in."  
  
The door opened quietly and slowly. It took a moment but in stepped Solas. It already soothed Ceirw to see him. Her eye's were immediately brought to the large ceramic mug in his hands. He shut the door and began approaching up the stairs.  
  
"Solas. " Ceirw said with a small and weary smile. It was good to see him. Things had been odd since their fade kiss, of course Solas always acted odd. A charming quality. "What can I do for you?"  
  
"I fear it's more what I may do for you, Inquisitor." Solas replied presenting her with the mug. Ceirw's golden gaze flickered over it and it's contents. A strong herbal tea brew it seemed. She'd have perhaps questioned it more had she not come to the realisation that both Solas and herself were still in bed clothes. She motioned towards the loveseat by the fire and the two took a seat. Warm tea in her hands, Ceirw settled herself crossed legged as Solas took a far more formal stature.  
  
"Imagine my surprise as I wandered the fade in sleep, only to be awoken by screams." Solas explained with a small smile and Ceirw felt a blush creep upon her face. At first she assumed he meant in the waking world, her screams might have awoke the whole of Skyhold, but on futher thought she knew he meant in the fade.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your dream." Ceirw explained sheepishly, coming a hand through her blonde hair.  
  
"Not at all. I was worried about you." Solas said reaching out a supportive hand and resting it on Ceirw's forearm.  
  
"It was only a nightmare, Solas."  
  
"What was it about?"  
  
Ceirw racked her mind as the dream already began slipping away. She wouldn't dwell on them. The elf gave an almighty shrug and lay back further into her cushioned seat. "Oh the usual, not being able to move, giant spiders...Falon'Din coming to take me away."  
  
"Is that so?" Solas asked, seemingly amused and Ceirw couldn't help but break into a laugh.  
  
"It was scarier than it sounds." She responded, taking a sip of tea.  
  
"Oh, I don't doubt it." Solas said with a ghost of a smirk on his lips.  
  
"You're laughing at me!" Ceirw pointed out, with a grin of her own plastered on her face. "Not everyone can control their dreams you know!" Wether he knew it or not, Ceirw was thankful for Solas' intervention. The tea and his teasing helped her not to dwell on her dreams. Solas was good and helping her not dwell on things.  
  
"I would never." Solas assured with a small smile that Ceirw mirrored.  
  
Ceirw let out a yawn and took another sip of tea. She watched as Solas relaxed more into his seat. He was no doubt tense around her because of her status as inquisitior. She wished people weren't so formal about it. Josephine was perhaps the worst. Ceirw was fond of the woman, but she was so eager to be diplomatic, Ceirw rarely got to see her relaxed. Solas at least felt casual enough to visit her room. Then there was Dorian, the polar oppisite of everyone. Ceirw really liked Dorian, he seemed to be a man who looked up to himself more than others.  
  
"I'm glad you visited, Solas." Ceirw said breaking the comfortable silence as her thoughts became more alert and awake. Solas inclined his head and Ceirw couldn't quite read his face. He appeared interested in her words, but his eyes seemed worried. "Blackwall, Varric and myself are leading a small party to close rifts in the Exalted Plains, I'd welcome your company and skills."  
  
"The Exalted Plains?" Solas pondered allowing the words to sink in. "I will aid the inquistion in however I am needed. Perhaps you should invite Sera? The Plains are so full of elven history, after all."  
  
The chances of Sera wanting to learn more about elves was as high as the chances of Varric wanting to eat red lyrium.  
  
"Ten silvers says she's not interested." Ceirw retorted with a challenging grin.  
  
Solas' features soften considerably. "You're on."  
  


* * *

  
  
Ceirw kept her head down as she walked along the damp grass. She could feel her party members eyes boring into her, but she paid them no mind. They knew something was wrong but none of them knew what to say or how to ask. She'd been so eager to get to the Dales and to Dirthavaren that it never occured to her just how sad it might make her. So many elves died on the ground she stepped across. It was no wonder to her that the dead plagued these lands. The Exalted Plains had seen much bloodshed.  
  
Part of Ceirw hoped to find remnants of a mostly intact elven nation, what she found was a grave site of a massacre. She should have known better, it was naive of her to expect culture from the trip. The land was after all won by the humans, and it was because of that many good elves like her clan had to wander the world. Never really having a real home. Yet here she stood, an elf walking over the past. She wore fine clothes at Vivenne and Josephine's request. She held herself high, and walked with a large, glorfied Elk that she often mounted. She slept in an obscenely large bed back at skyhold with silk brocade sheets and what did it matter? She wasn't an elven hero, she was a martyr for Andrastate.  
  
Night was falling and Ceirw was tired. They had been in the Exalted Plains for a day and it was spent killing the dead...again and searching the land. At first Solas, and Varric tried to keep her chin up, but the more evidence she found of her ancestors destroyed homeland the more it hurt. As the uncomfortable silence grew on, Ceirw found herself stopping near a broken bridge.  
  
"We should rest here for a moment, and then return to camp. It's getting late." She muttered and turned to walk away from the camp before anyone could reply.  
  
Varric and Blackwall shared worried glances but did as Ceirw asked, both men lead their horses to the water for a drink. Solas on the other hand hesitated. He moved to the waters edge with the other men but stood closer to Ceirw as she inspected the broken bridge.  
  
"Perhaps we should fix this bridge, who knows how long people have been trapped on the other side." Blackwall suggested breaking the silence between the four.  
  
Ceirw was silent. She wasn't sure she even heard Blackwall's words. Ceirw was too busy looking at a memorial plaque.  
  
"Dedicated to all, elven and human, who lost their lives in the second exalted march." Ceirw read from the plaque. Her eyes driffted a stone carving beneath which read further information. Information that had been written later, no doubt by a historian. "Pont Agur was built a hundred years after the Exalted March of the Dales--" She continued reading the rest quietly to herself and then let out a sigh, "-- Some villagers took offense at the dedication message on the bridge, which honors fallen elves as well as humans..." Ceirw's voice broke off and she could feel her eyes welling up. Her throat felt itchy and swollen too. She was strong and brave and she was many things when she had to be, but knowing that she could be hated so outwardly for being elven was disheartening.  
  
Earlier in the day they had come across another memorial. Lindiranae was the name on it. They called her a murderous and wild she-elf. It made Ceirw was some people in Thedas were calling her. She was a heretic to many, and blasphemy to others.  
  
Ceirw took a long deep breath and turned to steer her mount back to camp. "I don't want to be here anymore." She said simply and all four of them made their way back to their tents. 

 

* * *

  
The walk to camp had been a silent one and Blackwall, Varric and Solas thought it best to give Ceirw her space. Many of them hadn't seen her act like that before. Though it was understandable in the situation. The full moon rose high into the sky illuminating the campsite in pale light. Blackwall had gone to bed and Varric was bantering with a requisitions officer on the outskirts of camp. Ceirw had removed her armor and sat in by the fire. She wore breeches and shirt, she had gretted not bringing her Dalish clothes with her.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Solas' voice interrupted Ceirw's thoughts as she poked at the fire embers with an oak stick.  
  
"Confused. I'm praying to Sylaise. Asking why a world would see me killed for being both and elf and mage, asking Mythal why I rose so high when there are flat-ears in alienages just like me. Why Andrastate chose me? If she did?!" Ceirw tossed the stick into the fire and turned to find Solas watching her. She could read the pity on his face and let out a groan. "Please don't look at me like that."  
  
"I apologise. It makes perfect sense for you to want answers." Solas assured placing a hand genly on Ceirw's shoulder, offering her a comforting smile. "Terrible things have happened on these grounds, but they are lush with history. Elves prospered here."  
  
Ceirw let out a morose sigh at Solas' words, then shook herself from it. "I don't mean to be so foul. You all must think me foolish."  
  
"I could never think you foolish, Aur'Ceirw." Solas responded genuinely.  
  
Ceirw smiled a little at Solas' confession and found herself watching the hand still on her shoulder. It appeared that Solas noted this too and hesitantly removed it.  
  
"Solas."  
  
"Yes?" Solas and Ceirw both felt the heat of the fire and Ceirw found herself scanning his features intently.  
  
"Will you do something for me?" Ceirw asked moving to stand. She reached out her hand to the sitting Solas, an offer for him to join her where ever it was she was going. Solas observed her extended hand and tried to consider what it was she was asking of him. It was dark out and late to be travelling. Ceirw stood patiently not urging Solas to decide or not. The man took a moment but eventually took Ceirw's hand and allowed the woman to lead him.  
  
"If it's within my reach, yes." Solas said a little skeptical.  
  
They did not go far. Their journey was to Ceirw's tent and Ceirw decided it was best not to turn to Solas. The situation implied a lot and she didn't want to look at his face. Was he anxious? Was he unsettled? She didn't want to know. She was mostly thankful that he said nothing until they were both in the privacy of her tent.  
  
Ceirw sat down at the northen side of her tent and turned crossed legged, to face both the tent opening and Solas. Solas looked a little unsure, so Ceirw was sure to clear up her intentions quickly.  
  
"In Skyhold you brought me back to Haven in the fade and you always tell stories from your fade walking... I was wondering...hoping you'd show me the Dales in the fade, back when they were in their glorly." Ceirw yearned to know the secrets of the Exatled Plains, anything to bring her a sense of connection to the place.  
  
As Solas listened to Ceiwr's request his mouth slowly upturned at the corners revealing a small smile. Her request seemed to surprise him, but more so make him happy. Ceirw mimicked the smile and dropped a lot of tension that she hadn't realised she was holding.  
  
"I intended to roam the ramparts in the fade myself, it would be my pleasure to have you acompany me." Solas responded.  
"Okay! Great! Just.. great!" Ceirw said practically beaming. "I suppose the next step is going to slee-" Ceirw words were cut off. Solas' hands lifted above her face and she slowly felt the world drifting away. In mere seconds she was encased in blackness. She would have to ask him to stop doing that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read this far, I can only thank you from the bottom of my heart.


End file.
